


A Girl's Best Friend

by AliceMalefoy



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - College/University, College AU, Crushes, Dogs, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Mention of Assault, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Post-Spider-Man: Far From Home, Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming, Precious Peter Parker, Slow Burn, Tessa is in here too, Tony Stark is alive, Wholesome slow burn, almost no angst, guard dogs, i guess, skinny love, spoiler-free
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-21
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2020-09-23 08:31:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 66,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20337175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceMalefoy/pseuds/AliceMalefoy
Summary: Uptown girl meets friendly neighborhood Spider-Man and awkward classmate Peter Parker. She's supposed to have it all, but Peter will soon find out that his long-standing crush is more than just a pretty face and shiny shoes.All things in love are complicated, aren't they?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tony is alive because we all live in a happy place called Denial

Today was blood donation day, the Red Cross invested one of the faculty’s buildings this morning, turning it into a momentary blood bank. About half the student body decided to do the right thing and donate, and so the line was longer than the meet’n’greet line at the San Diego Comic Con Peter attended last year.

And he couldn’t even donate his blood! Unless he wanted to have a Spider-Sidekick turn up one day, Tony had _strongly_ advised him to stay clear of needles outside of his lab. No, Peter Parker stood in this endless line to keep company to Ned, who was afraid of needles but wanted to donate still because he had told a girl he liked that he would.

Peter was half convinced they would still be standing there tomorrow. He should have brought a tent and something to eat. A least something to _do_. Luckily Ned nervous-babbled to keep his mind busy, or Peter might have fallen asleep while standing – last night’s mission had lasted longer than planned and he hadn’t had as much sleep as a college student would hope for.

“Hey, it’s my turn next,” Ned told him, nudging him in the ribs and waking Peter from his little snooze.

And sure enough, they stood right next to the doctor’s little desk. Five doctors had set up their desks behind large panels as if those guaranteed any intimacy at all. Peter recognized the girl sitting in the chair at the nearest desk as one of his fellow classmates. He only knew her first name, or rather, her nickname. She didn’t look like she had any close friends, but most people called her Em. So, Emily, or Emma, he guessed.

He briefly wondered why this girl always kept to herself. She was always well put together, he had never heard her say something off, she didn’t smell weird, and he had no reason to think she wasn’t intelligent. Then again, she must have her reasons, and whatever they were, they were none of his business.

Okay, so, _maybe_ he did notice her because he thought she was pretty, but that was it, and it still didn’t make it his business.

A part of him knew it wasn’t nice to eavesdrop, but Peter was bored out of his mind and he had no ill intention, it was just plain curiosity. Ned had finally stopped talking his ears off, therefore nothing stopped him from listening.

“Name and date of birth please,” the doctor asked, his voice as toneless as expected after a day of saying the same thing over and over again.

“Emmeline Gerard, April 1st 1996,” she answered just as flatly.

Not Emily or Emma then, well… Peter didn’t think too hard about it, but the doctor seemed to pause and the young woman momentarily gained his full attention as his eyes switched between her and the application form in his hand.

“Yes, I’m his daughter,” she snapped, clearly having been there and done that before.

The doctor hadn’t even asked anything, but Peter guessed the question was obvious – the man must know her father, whoever he was. A fellow practitioner maybe? He didn’t even know why he cared, but this was the most thrilling interaction he had witnessed today.

The doctor shook his head and resumed his questions.

“Did you eat and drink something before coming? Do you feel ready to donate blood?”

Peter’s attention dwindled from then on, until she was almost done.

“Any medical history in your family?”

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met them,” she quipped, sending the old man a clipped smile that showed nothing but restrained annoyance. “I’m adopted.”

Upon hearing that, Peter turned cherry red. He shouldn’t have been listening in on that doctor-patient conversation. Yet, he felt oddly drawn to her after hearing that she was an orphan like him. Sure, she had been adopted and her father was apparently someone of importance, but still, it tugged at Peter’s heartstrings.

Her one on one with the doctor quickly came to an end, but he didn’t let her go without a final word.

“Please tell your father I wish him the best of luck for the election to come!” he called just as the young woman grabbed her bag and stood up to leave.

She froze, put her bag on her shoulder, clutching at the strap so hard Peter thought she must have been picturing the doctor’s neck in its stead, and she smiled. The smile was wrong, it had something off.

“I will. Good day, doctor.”

Peter knew, by the sound of her voice and the way her smile immediately dropped when she turned around, that she would never, not even in a million years, tell her father. She walked around the panel and nearly bumped right into him.

“Oh, sorry, I-“ Peter started, feeling as though he had been caught red handed doing something bad. This was the first time he even opened his mouth in her presence.

“Oh great! You heard everything, now didn’t you?!” she snapped, clearly mad though he wasn’t convinced it was entirely his fault. That conversation must have rubbed her the wrong way. “God fucking dammit,” she cursed. “Well, go on, it’s your turn!”

She stood slightly aside to tell him in so she could walk out but Peter only stood there awkwardly, hands in his pockets.

“I-I’m not donating, I’m just here with-“ He had barely gestured towards Ned, who now watched the two, before she cut him off.

“Even better! Out of my way, then.”

She pushed him aside, elbowing her way out of the little crowd that had formed around the door so she could go to the next stall where she’d finally make that donation, now that all the formalities were over.

“Who was that?” Ned asked Peter, watching the enraged girl stride away, her angry vibes making people step out of her way.

“Emmeline Gerard,” Peter answered offhandedly, eyes not leaving her form until she was out of sight. Ned simply frowned because her name meant nothing to him, but he didn’t get the time to ask any further questions.

“Next!” the doctor called, and Ned stepped in, leaving Peter to stand in the hallway with the hundred other people waiting there.

He made a mental note to look her up tonight.

*

“Can you believe this? I can’t even talk to a doctor without hearing about my father!” she ranted, making angry hand gestures while Bella watched on, titling her head to the left. “You’d think a doctor would be a little more professional than that! Bringing politics into a medical consultation, ugh!” she groaned, finally seeming to calm down a little.

She had been chewing on her tongue all day, biting off harsh remarks whenever somebody dared look her way. That poor boy she lashed out on this morning! He looked vaguely familiar; she must have a class with him – she would have to apologize if she saw him then.

“I just-“ she started, glancing at Bella who walked beside her. “I’m so sick of only being somebody’s daughter.”

Bella’s ears perked up and she looked up at Emmeline, her big brown eyes full of questions.

“Of course, you don’t understand my problems, do you?” She knelt down and scratched Bella’s ears, watching her tail wag now that she had her owner’s full attention. “Your only concern in life is when you’ll next have to go to the vet.”

The sun was setting now, the last orange rays filtering between New York City’s buildings. Her walks in Central Park with Bella were supposed to be a moment of relaxation – not a moment to scare the kids hanging there with her grumbling. Most must think her crazy for ranting at her dog.

But Bella didn’t mind – at least Emmeline thought so – and she couldn’t give less of a crap what people thought of her. Her father would; in fact, her father gave many craps what people thought of him and, by extension, his family. Emmeline had never liked the word family, it just never made sense to her. She was born and immediately abandoned and then she was placed into the arms of another set of parents whose love never left _right_.

“Thank you for listening, Bel,” she told the happy dog who waited for her to unhook the leash so she could run around for a bit.

Pitbulls were considered dangerous dogs and Bella had to wear a muzzle every time they went out – it broke Emmeline’s heart but it was the law. She couldn’t play fetch with her like this, but at least she could play with other dogs in the park. A lot of them already knew each other, and Emmeline waved at an old lady who walked her labradoodle, Sir Henry.

She watched them run in circles for a while.

“I can’t speak about this with anyone else,” she muttered to herself, eyes never leaving her dog. “Who would pity the beloved mayor of New York’s daughter? I’m supposed to be the luckiest girl in the city.”


	2. Chapter 2

Peter didn’t know how to feel about having been yelled at by the daughter of the mayor, but he had an inkling it wasn’t good. There was a point in his life where he had hoped that one day he might receive the keys to the city – he just really wanted to know if they opened anything or if they were merely symbolic (it would be greatly disappointing).

That dream had gone down the drain this morning, though.

No wait, he was getting mixed up again. She had bumped into and yelled at Peter Parker. Peter Parker would never stand in front of the mayor and the whole city to be gifted the keys of New York City. If such a thing ever happened, it would be Spider-Man standing on the stage outside the Townhall. And Emmeline Gerard had never met Spider-Man – which was mostly due to the fact she did not live anywhere near Queens.

A week later, he was ashamed to say that he did know where she lived. He was even more ashamed to admit that he followed her home one night during his Spider-Man shift. It wasn’t premeditated at all, she just came out of what he could only assume to be a late-night study session, the light at the library’s door hitting her face and giving it a golden shine.

Since moving to Manhattan, Peter had changed his habits quite a bit, but he tried to center his action on Queens. Nobody needed to know that Spider-Man lived in a college dorm now. Ned and Peter had gotten accepted in Columbia with full-ride scholarships – that Peter _highly_ suspected were curtesy of Tony Stark – and even got lucky enough to get individual rooms. How oddly convenient for someone with a double identity, ugh.

The way to Queens was a short one when Peter swung from building to building, but he didn’t see why he couldn’t keep an eye open from here to there, just in case someone needed his help. He saw her coming out of the library when he was about to sneak out of his window, and he didn’t know what possessed him, but the next thing he knew, he was on the roof of her building, overlooking central park.

“Fancy,” Peter said with a whistle, admiring the tall, modern building.

_So this is where well-off kids live,_ he thought. While it did look flashy and awesome from the outside, something still tugged at his heart, and his mind jumped to the homey feeling of aunt May’s little apartment in Queens. He wasn’t sure he would trade that cozy atmosphere for anything in the world. This building reminded him of Stark Tower.

He had once asked Tony what floor he lived on, and he had paused and gauged the kid.

“I don’t live here, Spandex.” He rolled his eyes. “This is my workplace. I have a house you know? Several, actually. I’ll invite you next time Pepper and I host a barbecue.”

That was it. This place looked like a workplace. Maybe the headquarters of a fancy magazine like Vogue or Vanity Fair, where fashion icons walked in and out of all the time, but no one ever stayed the night. All windows, no ugly concrete walls. Shiny in the afternoon sun, brand spanking new.

In a sense, it fit her, he mused. A lonely princess living in a fancy glass tower.

Without wasting any more time thinking silly thoughts, Peter continued his way back home.

*

No more milk. All of this happened because there was no more milk.

“I swear to the fucking gods, I’m sure I still had an extra bottle!” Emmeline said before slamming the refrigerator door shut.

She needed to work on her language, she was growing more vulgar every day.

It was half past ten, most stores were closed apart from the small hole-in-the-wall convenience stores – which couldn’t be found that easily when you lived in the Upper East Side. She whistled and Bella came trotting into the kitchen, looking at her with expectant eyes.

“We’re going shopping,” she said, and Bella knew what it meant. She ran to the front door, barely holding in place even though she had had her walk only a few hours ago.

Emmeline mechanically slipped on her dog walk shoes, very worn out sneakers, her jacket, and clipped on Bella’s leash. Her dog practically dragged her out and into the elevator before she could even lock her door.

As much as she complained about it, she never minded going for a late-night walk – even if she couldn’t really relax while walking New York at night. You just never knew what creep roamed the streets.

The blue neon light blinking in the night appeared around a corner, and she hope to God they had her oat milk. A girl needed her oat milk. She walked in there confidently, thinking she could will the store to have what she was looking for. The owner sent her a sharp look when he saw her strut in with a beast of a dog behind her.

Bella was the sweetest thing, but she did look intimidating, which was the whole point.

“Let’s see…” She scanned the refrigerated shelves at the back of the store, looking for plant-based milk when suddenly, her shopping was interrupted in the rudest fashion.

A man catcalled her.

The whistle made her ears ring and she froze, ready to ward off whoever thought this was an appropriate setting to chat up a girl. Or worse still: whoever thought catcalling was okay in any form or shape.

“That’s a big dog for a small girl,” the man said, already approaching.

Emmeline refused to turn her head to look at him, but she glanced from the corner of her eye to see who she was dealing with. He was in his late twenties – probably – and looked like the kind of person you didn’t want to hang out with unless you were looking for trouble.

“That’s a big mouth you have for such a small dick,” she scoffed. Bingo! Oat milk. She opened the glass door to get her bottle.

“What did you just say?” The man took a step closer, visibly trying to make himself look taller by puffing out his chest and raising his chin.

Emmeline was not tall, but she stood her ground, not letting herself intimidated by this dude. She couldn’t let him see she was scared. Bella barked suddenly, making him jump back, out of surprise.

“Let me through,” she asked rather politely - she was proud of herself. “And a piece of advice: don’t hit on girls doing their groceries, it’s rude. We don’t want to talk to you, alright? We just want our fucking oat milk.”

So much for not cursing anymore. Life just couldn’t give her a break these days, nothing had gone smoothly since the blood donation last week. Maybe it was the universe making her pay for being rude to that boy who hadn’t even done anything wrong.

“You fucking-“

He tried to step closer again, but Bella barked louder this time. At night, Emmeline didn’t walk Bella with her muzzle on, she’d rather pay the fee than take the risk. Her dog growled until the shop owner came to see what was going on. He made it clear to the young woman that he would not allow her dog in anymore.

The rebuffed man stomped out, and Bella paid for the milk, then left the store. She did not expect to be yanked into an alley as soon as she stepped on the sidewalk.

“You think you can talk to me like that?!” The stranger pushed her backwards, her back hitting the wall sharply and knocking the air out of her lungs.

Bella barked as a warning again, growling at the man’s feet. She was already biting the hem of his pants when he put his hands on Emmeline again, popping the buttons of her blouse in one swift pull. They all scattered on the pavement.

“Help! Hel-“ He slammed his hand flat on her mouth to stop her from alerting the shop owner.

Bella growled once more and lurched at her master’s attacker, going for the leg. When her sharp teeth sunk into his flesh, he yelped in pain, his scream way louder than any call for help Emmeline might have shouted.

Her eyes went wide with fear and her tough demeanor was gone within a split second. _Not again, not again_… The pitiful yelp she heard made her heart sink. Not Bella… He kicked the dog again, making it cower a bit but not give up on defending her mistress. She began to bark like crazy, hopefully attracting someone’s attention.

Emmeline tried to push her attacker off her, struggling to wiggle out of his grip but he was pressing his body onto her to keep her trapped between him and the wall.

“Stay still you little vegan bitch! I’ll show you some meat!” she hissed against Emmeline’s ear, making her skin crawl.

Tears began to sting at her eyes, and she couldn’t breathe probably with this man’s hand still covering her mouth while he reached into his pants with the other. There wasn’t much doubt in her mind what he was going to do to her, which only sent her into hysterics. She closed her eyes, praying for help, hearing nothing but Bella’s barks and growls as she once again bit the man’s leg, momentarily making him let go of Emmeline. She took the occasion to scream her lungs out, when suddenly, he was gone.

Bella stopped barking and walked to Emmeline, who slowly collapsed on the ground, stunned into silence. There wasn’t anyone with her in the alley anymore, she was alone with Bella. She nudged her gently with her nose, whining and licking her arm.

“Are you alright?” Another voice that she had never heard before broke her out of her reverie.

Emmeline startled but didn’t stand up when another figure stood before her, entirely dressed in blue and red. Her jaw hung open and she couldn’t do anything but stare at him. It was Spider-Man, that much she could tell, although she never thought she would see him one day, not in the flesh.

“You’re Spider-Man,” she stated the obvious, just to be sure.

“Oh good, you’re not in shock or anything,” he said, sounding relieved – it was hard to tell with the mask. “This really isn’t my scene, I never know what to do when people stare blankly at me and start shaking and crying – not that it’s not a natural reaction-“ he began to ramble.

Emmeline scrambled to her feet, Bella standing between her and the superhero, on her guard more than ever now.

“Oh sorry, let me help you-“ Spider-Man reached out for her hand to help her up but instead Emmeline bent over to gently pat her dog’s head in order to calm her down.

“Thank you for saving me,” she told him, not looking away from her dog.

Her heart was still pounding and watching Bella’s soulful eyes eased her nerves. That asshole had picked her in the face! She cradled Bella’s face.

“Do you need help getting up or-“

“No,” Emmeline snapped. “No,” she repeated slowly, in a softer voice and with a sheepish look. “Bella is trained to protect me from strangers, you can’t touch me unless I initiate the contact and she knows you’re not a threat.”

“A fellow defender of the innocent then,” Spider-Man teased, looking at her dog with a kind of amusement mixed with some admiration. “I’m sure she did her best tonight.”

“She’s still a little young,” Emmeline admitted, never stopping to pat her dog’s head. In truth, she was starting to feel that backlash Spider-Man spoke of, and her eyes soon began to prickle. She didn’t want to cry, he literally just admitted that he didn’t like when people starting crying on him. If she focused on Bella, she would be fine. “But she did her very best,” she continued, having swallowed down the tears. “That jerk even kicked her, but she did her best.”

She still hadn’t initiated contact, as she put it, and Peter irked to reach out and make sure she was fine, because she didn’t look fine to him. She looked like she was about to burst in tears. Her blouse still hung open and her eyes looked glossy.

Bella whined again, leaning into her mistress’ touch.

“She looks like a sweet dog,” he observed. Whatever he said, she did not look away from Bella and he thought maybe that was how she dealt with being assaulted. Looking at something familiar and comforting could be very helpful.

“Yes,” she finally said before standing up, having collected herself. “She’s the sweetest.”

“Maybe too sweet to take walks at night?” he asked carefully, not wanting to upset the girl further.

She hiccupped.

“Maybe, yeah… I just- I was out of milk,” she confessed, feeling the blush rise to her cheeks.

“… out of milk?” Peter asked. That was when he spotted the bottle that had rolled on the ground. He picked it up. “Oh, so that’s where the ‘vegan bitch’ thing came from!” he exclaimed, as if he just had an illumination. “I didn’t get it at first.”

“Yeah, apparently it’s an insult now.” Emmeline laughed a bit. They say even faking a laugh could trick the body into producing dopamine. “I’m not even vegan, I’m just lactose intolerant.”

She paused and pressed her eyes shut. Gosh darn, why would she tell Spider-Man that she was lactose intolerant? This entire evening was chaotic at best, but it took a sharp turn for the ridiculous just then.

“Not that it’s relevant in any way.” She held her hand open and Peter gave him the bottle, watching Bella twitch nervously but stay sat at Emmeline’s feet. “Sorry, I’m just a little shaken up.”

“No, no, don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. Usually I’d offer to bring you home, but I can’t take Bella swinging in the air.” He scratched the back of his neck in a mechanical gesture, although he couldn’t feel a thing through the material. It was made to stop bullets after all.

“That’s fine, you already did more than enough for me.”

“Still, I want to make sure you get home safely. I’ll follow you at a distance in case anything happens.”

Emmeline didn’t really know what to say, the words were stuck at the back of her throat, creating a knot. Having Bella by her side was a great comfort already but knowing that Spider-Man watched over her brought her immeasurable relief.

“Thank you,” she managed to croak out.

“You can walk home in peace now.”

She picked up Bella’s leash and tightened her grip on it, ready to walk out of the shadows but suddenly, she lurched at Spider-Man, hugging him because nothing she could say would properly convey the way she felt right now. He had saved her.

Bella woofed as a warning but didn’t seem to be ready to jump at Peter’s throat, which he was glad for because he really didn’t want this particular dog to not like him.

The hug didn’t last long and soon Emmeline pulled away, an embarrassed smile on her face.

“Thank you again,” she muttered before going on her way.

Bella lingered a bit in front of Peter, gauging him. Peter crouched down and gave her a quick pat on the head.

“Take good care of her, will you?”


	3. Chapter 3

Despite following her home, Peter hadn’t felt right since that night a week ago, and his mind constantly jumped back to the scene he had witnessed on his way back from his daily beat around Queens.

He kept thinking he could have taken another way, he could have gone home ten, or even five minutes earlier or later, and then he would have missed her. So many little things had factored in the fact that he saw what happened and intervened before it was too late, it made him dizzy to think about it. So many what ifs…

He had seen her again in class, but she looked completely out of it too. She was a diligent student who always completed her work as far as he knew and seeing her zone out and distractedly doodle in her notebook inside of taking notes made his stomach churn. He knew she was shaken up by what happened, as any person would be in her stead, but it felt wrong that she would keep it all bottled up.

It confirmed his guess about her having no real close friend to talk to, and he had half a mind to stand up in the middle of their applied physics tutorial to sit next to her in a show of support. Except it wouldn’t do, because the last time – and the first time – they interacted, she had yelled at him for standing in her way and not even donating his blood.

Honestly, that wasn’t fair, but he couldn’t exactly tell her why he didn’t donate, now could he? Therefore, he stayed where he was, glancing at her every now and then, as if to make sure she hadn’t burst into silent tears or whatever, and barely listened to the tutorial himself.

It wasn’t just in class either, Peter thought about it all the time. He thought about it way too much for someone who didn’t even talk to the girl or have any kind of relationship with her whatsoever. It kept him awake at night; it made him zone out during conversations with Ned; it distracted him to the point where his dog had to whine to get his attention when she needed to go out for a walk.

It reached a point where he simply had to go talk to her, if only to put his own mind at ease and go back to his routine without having her constantly plague his thoughts.

Like right now, for example. A little snap was all it took to make Peter come down from his cloud.

“Tessa! Tessa!” he called after his dog, who was now dashing away and through the campus, quickly disappearing from sight.

He gave a disbelieving look at his hand, still holding the leash. The short leather leash that just snapped a second ago, allowing Tessa to run away like the devil himself was chasing her. It was more likely to have been a squirrel than the devil that got her to run like this, but the result was the same.

“Fuck,” Peter cursed before running after her.

If there weren’t so many people around, he could have caught up quickly, he could have used his powers – but no, Tessa had wanted to go for a walk _now_. In the middle of the afternoon. She was already so far ahead, his heart was pounding in his chest.

“Tessa!” he shouted, frozen amidst the crowd, looking around with a panicked look on his face.

*

Emmeline had reasonably good reflexes. Granted, her mind was a bit elsewhere these days and she often caught herself being distracted in situations she should have been paying attention instead. But when she saw a blurry form dash towards her at lightning speed, recognizing it immediately, she jumped into action so quickly her brain didn’t even process what happened.

She had been walking across the lawn to go to her favorite Sushi shop to buy tonight’s dinner, playing with her stress ball because it was the only thing grounding her this week, when it all happened.

Emmeline brought two fingers between her lips and whistled loud enough to get the dog to freeze and look for the source of the sound, then she quickly threw her little ball to get its attention. Its ears perked up and it lurched forward to get the ball, not caring that it was a small moss ball. The idea was to distract the dog so its master could catch up – Emmeline was no stranger to dogs making a run for it and she saw the broken bit of leash still attached to its collar.

It was a beautiful female pitbull with a light gray coat. She approached it slowly, making sure to not alarm the dog who didn’t know her, but she seemed friendly enough and let her into her close vicinity.

“Here, sweetie,” Emmeline purred, trying for a pat.

The young pit immediately sat down and wagged her tail, looking at the girl with big, happy eyes, tongue out, ball in front of her.

“Well, aren’t you a nice girl,” she continued, now giving her ears a good scratch. “Where’s your master? Mmh?” she hummed, unable to stop talking to the animal.

Now kneeling on the ground, Emmeline took the golden medal hanging at the dog’s collar between her fingers. It said ‘Tessa’, and on the back was a phone number.

“Let’s wait a few minutes before I call your master, what do you say?”

Tessa answered with a low woof and then raised a paw, as if asking for a treat.

“I’m sorry, I don’t have anything with me at the moment.” She usually did carry around dog treats in her bag, but not when she was going to buy food. “I’m sure you’ll get plenty of treats once we return you to your master. He’ll be so happy to see you again.”

People were starting to look at her weird for kneeling on the grass and cooing at a dog that wasn’t hers, having a full-on conversation with it too. She hadn’t talked this much to anyone in a week now, and it felt good just to not be silent all the time.

“Tessa! Tessa come here!” she suddenly heard someone call from a distance.

Tessa must have heard it too, because she turned her head around, searching for the person calling her name.

“See? Didn’t need to call him.”

Emmeline stayed down, holding Tessa by the collar since her leash had broken off, and waiting for the desperate shouts to come closer.

“Here!” she called, waving her arm to get the boy’s attention when she spotted him. He ran so fast, he was in front of her in the blink of an eye.

“Oh, my gosh, Tessa!” He nearly threw himself on the ground to hold his dog, making Emmeline laugh and finally stand up, dusting off her jeans who were now green at the knees. “Never do that to me again!”

Emmeline said nothing but observed the two being reunited with a fond smile on her face, watching the boy shower his dog with love.

“Thank you so, so much-“ he started, looking up at her with a large smile full of gratitude. Then his smile dropped, and Emmeline frowned a bit too.

It was him.

She could tell he wanted to stand up, but he couldn’t just let go of Tessa what with the absence of leash. A slight blush crept to his cheeks and he looked a little bit to her left, right above her shoulder instead of meeting her eyes.

“S-sorry about her,” he started, stuttering out the first word. “She must have seen a squirrel or something, and this leash is so old, I should have bought a new one ages ago.”

“There’s a veterinarian just round the corner over there,” Emmeline said, not answering his apology. “You can’t go home like this, I’m gonna go see if they have a spare leash, stay here.”

“Wha- wait!” he called after all, still sitting on the ground. “You- you don’t have to- I can-“

“Just stay here,” she told him, glancing over her shoulder. “I’ll be right back.”

She strode off as quickly as she could, going straight to the veterinarian. Her own cheeks were burning hot – with embarrassment. It was the boy from the Red Cross donation, the boy she had yelled at and belittled in front of a bunch of other students for no valid reason. Gosh, of course it had to be him, she couldn’t finish this week on a positive note.

She shook her head. No, she couldn’t think like that. This was the perfect chance for her to apologize and make things a little better. It was a good occasion to flip this awful week around. Set her karma straight.

Her feet brought her right outside the office, and she waltzed it like she owned the place. There was a little corner where they sold stuff, and Emmeline grabbed the most expensive leash - the same leash that she had at home, this way at least she knew this one was sturdy – and bought it, removing the tag as she stepped out.

The way back was even shorter, and her legs were a little stiff from the tense power-walk. She was just finishing giving herself a pep talk when she reached Tessa and her master.

He was now full on sitting crossed legged on the grass, giving Tessa belly rubs and letting her play with Emmeline’s stress ball. She would need a new one soon.

“Here you go.” She handed him the leash in a rather stiff manner, cursing herself for being so weird about this. Maybe he hadn’t even recognized her?

Bullshit, he had recognized her the second his eyes had landed on her.

“Oh, thank you. You really didn’t have to-“ he started, clipping the new leash on Tessa’s collar and getting rid of the old one.

“Yes, I did,” Emmeline cut him off, hands in her pockets, staring at her boots. “I’m sorry about last week.”

Peter’s shoulders relaxed and he finally stood up, Tessa by his feet, looking at the girl who had seemed so tough last week. She didn’t need to apologize, but he could see it made her feel better, so he didn’t try to convince her otherwise.

“It wasn’t that bad,” he chuckled a tad awkwardly.

When she looked up and met his eyes, the laughter died in his throat. She had impressively deep eyes, very dark, captivating really. He could feel his face heat up again.

“It was uncalled for. I was upset and took it out on you,” she continued. “And I wanted to apologize, but I didn’t see you again, so…” she trailed off, pouting a little.

“We actually have a few classes together,” Peter told her, earning a startled look. “I’m Peter, by the way.”

She sucked in her cheeks a little bit, staring at the hand he offered her. Just when he thought she was going to ignore him she took it in hers.

“Em,” she simply said. “And I’m also sorry for not realizing we shared classes.”

Could she embarrass herself any more than she already had in front of this boy? He seemed kind, she observed. The little crinkles at the corner of his eyes told her he smiled often. He looked like the kind of person who didn’t have a single mean bone in them.

“That’s okay, I’m very unnoticeable,” Peter teased her in an attempt to get a smile out of her. She had been smiling so bright when she petted Tessa, but her entire face dropped as soon as she stood up and began to talk to him. “Invisible, you could say.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing.” She shook her head a bit, wishing she was a bit more invisible to the world. “It could be a superpower.”

Peter laughed weirdly, it was a bit forced, but then again, Emmeline wasn’t the most at ease in this conversation, and it might have rubbed off on him.

“A superpower, yeah,” he repeated. “I’ve always wondered if the Invisible Man had to be naked in order to be fully invisible.”

He could have smacked his head into a brick wall for saying that to this pretty girl who had just saved the day. It was their first real conversation, and he was geeking out on her and talking about nakedness. Just the way to a girl’s heart.

But she laughed this time. And she brightened up the same way she had when she cuddled Tessa.

“Solid theory. You can see his glasses and hat after all, it would make sense.” She shrugged.

Peter was so thoroughly dazzled that he did not know what to say in response to that. If he were having this conversation with Ned, he would know exactly what to answer, but this wasn’t Ned at all. This was the girl that had caught his eye a while ago, and who had just saved him from losing Tessa, and she just made a funny remark about a comics character.

“I- euh-“ Peter blushed so hard he had to look at his feet for a second to collect himself. “I’m going to finish this walk and go back to studying,” he blurted out. It wasn’t a lie, but he could have made a bit more time to talk to her before leaving.

“Yeah, sure.” Emmeline nodded a bit too vigorously. “I also have… things… to do.”

She sure had gone a long way downhill since seventh grade when she had won that elocution prize. It was back when she didn’t cuss every other word.

“How much do I owe you for the leash?”

“Nothing.” She brushed it off with a wave of her hand. “Just bought the cheapest one, and I owed you a real apology so… take it.”

Peter wanted to argue but she had a way of just ending the conversation that made it clear she would not take his money even if he shoved it into her wallet directly. She crouched down to say goodbye to Tessa, who licked her hand just as she reached for her chin to give her a few scratches.

“Tessa, c’mon,” Peter groaned. “Sorry about the dog saliva,” he told Emmeline with a sheepish look, his lips brought in a thin line.

“No worries, I’m used to it. I chose the dog owner life,” she laughed, rolling up her sleeve just a bit.

Peter knew that of course, but he had to pretend he did not.

“What kind of dog?”

Emmeline took her time in answering the question, eyes still focused on Tessa.

“Same as you. Female pit. Light brown with just-“ Her finger hovered above Tessa’s left eye to trace a circle. “One white spot here.”

He didn’t say anything else because he couldn’t think about anything other than the way she smiled at Tessa, probably picturing her own dog, eyes full of affection. For a split second, he wondered what it was like to be on the receiving end of such a stare.

“Well, I’ll be on my way now,” she told him suddenly, standing up again and meeting his eyes with her intense dark ones. “I’ll keep my eye open in class and… maybe say hi?”

God, Peter would like nothing more than that.


	4. Chapter 4

Peter had had an entire argument, from start to finish, with himself over whether or not to do what he was currently doing, and he wasn’t too sure who won in the end, but the fact remained that he was now climbing down the side of Emmeline Gerard’s building to get to her balcony, and possibly scare her to death.

He knew it wasn’t his most brilliant idea – it wasn’t even a good idea – but he didn’t know how else to hear from her. He had met her now, as himself, and not just Spider-Man. He technically could have asked her if she was alright, but that wouldn’t have worked. Most people don’t just confide to near strangers. She had had a longer conversation with Tessa than him after all.

And why would he ask her that? He wasn’t supposed to know anything happened to her. It would make her suspicious. It would maybe scare her off and she would never speak to him again.

Peter didn’t want that. Peter wanted to sit next to her in class once he grew the courage, and he wanted to ask her if she’d like to have lunch some time.

Instead, he was hanging outside her window, watching her read on her couch, legs tucked under her, Bella lying on her back next to her, foot twitching in that way it did when a dog was dreaming.

He knocked on the window and she frowned, looking at the front door. He knocked again, seeing her look at the window this time and dropping her book in surprise, slamming a hand over her chest.

She got up, Bella in her wake - she woke up when the young woman cursed loudly upon seeing Spider-Man outside her twenty-second-floor window.

“What in the goddamn hell are you doing here?” she hissed in a whisper as she slid open the window and stepped onto her balcony.

Bella, who must have remembered him as being there when her mistress had been attacked, growled until Emmeline shooed her off, approaching from the dangling silhouette.

Peter expected a warmer welcome but then again, he was technically trespassing, so…

He let go of the web and landed on the tiled balcony, standing up slightly taller than her. She wore blue slippers with fluffy pom-poms, and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“Just checking in,” he told her.

Emmeline stepped back. He had caught her in a moment of relaxation at home, she was wearing sweatpants and probably no bra and stiffly held her robe closed over her chest. When he said that, she looked taken aback.

“Oh.” She seemed to realize she had just verbally attacked her savior for no reason at all and embarrassment tainted her cheeks. “Sorry, I just didn’t expect-“

“It’s nothing,” Peter assured her. “I’d freak out too if a dude wearing tights hung outside my window upside down.”

“Glad we agree on that.” She nodded with a little smile. “So, uhm, I’m fine. Thank you again for what you did.”

“Are you sure?”

Emmeline stared at her feet and wiggled her toes inside her slippers.

“I- yeah, yeah I’m good. Nothing happened in the end, you came before…” She couldn’t finish the sentence. “I’m not gonna talk to you about my problems, that’s what therapists are for and surely you’ve got more important things to do than listen to me.”

“I just finished my day.” He shrugged, deciding to sit in one of the iron chairs around the small round table that stood on the balcony. “I have nothing else to do.”

“It’s almost midnight, sleeping would be a better activity.”

“I have my morning off, I’ll sleep in to catch up,” he countered.

“I don’t, I have class in the morning.”

“You weren’t sleeping when I arrived,” he argued, watching her narrow her eyes at him.

“Don’t play smarty pants with me. Just because you saved me doesn’t mean I’ll treat you any different than other men.”

“Ouch!” Peter clutched at his heart but stood up still. If she didn’t want to talk, then she didn’t want to talk. “I’ll leave you alone if you do me a favor: talk about what happened to someone. A friend.”

“Blackmailing me, are we?” She raised a brow and clicked her tongue inside her cheek. “Fine. But I decide when I’m ready to talk about it. No time limits.”

“No time limits.” Peter shot his web upwards to climb up again. “By the way, Bella doesn’t count.”

Then he disappeared, right when he saw her open her mouth to argue.

*

Ned gaped at his friend when on Monday, in their Introduction to Mechanics and Biomechanics lecture, Emmeline smiled and waved at Peter. Both of them looked behind them to see who she was smiling at but saw no one. It really was for Peter!

“What was that? Since when do you know her?” Ned questioned, watching Peter smile back like a total goof and wave slowly as if he couldn’t believe she noticed him. “Didn’t she yell at you’re the last time you looked her way?”

“Ugh, I guess you could say we turned the page,” Peter said with an enigmatic smile and a shrug. “We had a chance encourage this Friday.”

He ended up explaining everything to Ned since he kept insisting on getting all the juicy details because “wow Peter, this is major! You’re finally on speaking terms with the girl you’ve been pining after since Freshman year”.

“I haven’t been-“ he started to deny then saw the look Ned was giving him. “Fine, I may have noticed her, but it’s nothing crazy, I’m not forgetting myself whenever we’re in the same room. You’re always making me sound so lame, dude.”

“That’s because you are. Like, no offense, I say this with the utmost respect, but you’re a hopeless romantic and all your brain cells drop dead whenever she looks at you.”

“They most certainly do not!” he objected, sounding so much like Tony that he had to take a second and reflect on his life.

“Sure,” Ned said, clearly not believing a word of it. Then he proceeded to mimic the way Peter had waved at Emmeline, dumb smile and all.

“Okay, yeah, maybe I get a little awkward around her, but who doesn’t? Even teachers get all fidgety when she speaks in class.”

It didn’t happen often because she rarely raised her hand, but he really had seen grown adults get nervous around her. Of course, back then, he didn’t know she was the mayor’s daughter. Neither did Ned. He didn’t share a lot of classes with Ned, they had chosen different specialties.

“That’s because she’s the mayor’s daughter, they all think she can get them fired if they say something wrong,” Ned told Peter. “And the biochem teacher doesn’t do that. She gives zero craps about your girlfriend’s pedigree.”

“She’s not my-“ Peter groaned and threw his head back, closing his fists in frustration. “Forget it. You’re right, I’m the lamest guy in this whole city, and we’ll probably never move past speaking terms, so can we drop the subject now?”

Ned hadn’t meant to upset Peter, but the truth in what he had said stung all the same. She was the mayor’s daughter, she was out-of-this-world pretty, and she was smart and intimidating. She was great with dogs too apparently, and while it could have played in his favor to have something so close to their hearts in common, it was ruined by the fact that his dog running away was literally the reason why they had shared a conversation the other day. At best she thought him clumsy, but it was more likely that she thought he shouldn’t even own a dog if he couldn’t do something as simple as go on a walk without losing her.

He didn’t have a single chance with this girl, he was deluding himself.

Just when his thoughts were getting darker, the lecture started.

*

Three days after that eye-opening moment, when Peter had accepted that his little crush was a dead-end, she had waltzed into his life again. Peter was sitting at a table in a nearly empty library this early Thursday morning when someone dropped a pile of books next to him, even though the long table was entirely void of people.

“Hey, can you-“ he began before setting his eyes on the person standing behind the chair to his right.

“Can I what?” She smirked, pulling back the chair and sitting down. “Can I fuck off and find an empty table?” She laughed.

“That’s not what I was going to say,” Peter objected, already mentally cursing himself. “I swear.”

“Oh, I know,” she assured him. “You’d have said it way more politely.”

Everything Ned had said and every self-deprecating thought that had bloomed in Peter’s mind since Monday resurfaced and he didn’t know what to say. _Say something Peter, just say whatever comes to mind, but don’t just sit there with your jaw hanging,_ he admonished himself.

“Don’t sweat it,” she added when Peter finally opened his mouth. “I’m not going to bother you, I just thought it’d be silly to sit at the end of the table when you’re right here. Is it okay if I stay and study with you for a bit?”

His heartbeat slowed down a bit and he felt slightly better. That was the problem with putting people you didn’t know on a pedestal: you end up having wrong ideas about them. Emmeline undoubtedly had a strong personality and wasn’t afraid to say things as they were. But she wasn’t haughty or trying to intimidate anyone.

“Sure, I was beginning to feel lonely anyway,” Peter told her.

“I never realized you came here this early too. I like to walk my dog when there’s few people outside, so I come here after, since I’m awake anyway,” she explained, flipping the pages of her manual to find the right chapter.

“I get nervous where there are too many people around me, so…” Peter shrugged and only then realized what he had just said. Holy f***, he _was_ socially inept. Quick Peter, change the subject! “M-maybe I’ll meet Bella one of these days.”

Emmeline looked up and frowned.

“How do you know her name?”

Shit, shit, shit, shit. Today wasn’t his day.

“You- uh, you mentioned it last time, when you found Tessa.” A big fat lie! Hopefully she wouldn’t question it.

Her expression shifted to one of acceptance and she nodded with a little hum.

“Are you studying for the exam next week in Differential Equations?” he asked, deeming it a safer conversation topic.

It was an advanced class with only a handful of students, and she was in it too.

“Uhm, no. I’ve got that covered, I think. I’m here to finish the assignment in Molecular Genetics.”

Peter didn’t have that class, he took Microbiology.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to help me she chuckled.” She must have seen the panic on his face when he realized he wasn’t in that class. “But if you need me to help with D.E. I can.”

He didn’t miss the mischievous air about her when she turned down his help but offered hers. Peter had to smirk to himself, feeling like she had somehow _won_ this conversation if such a thing was even possible.

“Noted,” he said, accepting defeat – this time.

*

Without thinking much about it, they had both developed new habits since that day Peter had saved her from her assailant.

Ned was wrong, Peter had to believe it. He had to believe that she wasn’t so far out of his league that she wouldn’t even look his way, because she did. Emmeline Gerard looked at him, talked to him, laughed with him. And he could feel himself get deeper in deeper every time he saw her stunning dimpled smile.

The other side of the coin was his visits as Spider-Man. He couldn’t help himself, he wanted to see a side of her that she didn’t show to Peter Parker, or anyone else for that matter. Somehow, she didn’t treat him any different than she did when he wasn’t wearing a mask, but she acted a little different.

He could tell she told him things she wouldn’t share with anyone but Bella – who had grown accustomed to Spider-Man’s random visits and now accepted pats and ear scratches from him. Perhaps she thought her secrets were safe with him because she trusted him after he saved her from sexual assault, or perhaps it was because he didn’t have any motive to spill them, Peter didn’t know. But she did confide in him nonetheless.

He knew that her father bought her this flat when she was got her bachelor’s degree. What a gift for a barely out of high school teen! She had taken it as a not-so-subtle way of being kicked out of the bigger and much fancier penthouse he shared with her mother.

She had never felt much like home there anyway, so she came here and adopted a dog. She was an Aries; she didn’t like coffee; she couldn’t stand horror movies; she was allergic to cats; she read poetry in her spare time; she made an impeccable impression of Gollum and had a broad knowledge of obscure Lord of the Rings lore.

Peter Parker didn’t know most of those things, but Spider-Man did. And as days and weeks went by, he was starting to feel he might be stagnating in his relationship with her. She didn’t open up and bare her soul to him the way she did to Spider-Man when it was near midnight and they were both sat on her balcony (she never let him in) and talked like old friends.

Peter felt as though he was in competition with himself. Peter feared she might like his other self better than his actual self.

“So,” Peter started, sitting Indian style on the tiles, rubbing Bella’s belly now that she liked him well enough to roll on her back and show him her most vulnerable part. “Did you talk to a friend, like we agreed you’d do?” he inquired.

He hadn’t forgotten her promise, even though it has been two months now.

“I haven’t forgotten but I-“ She paused and rubbed her arms. It was late November; it was starting to get too cold to have these chats outside. “I just don’t know who to talk to. I don’t have this kind of friendship with anyone.”

It hurt to hear that. Peter tried not to show it.

“No one at all?” he pressed her on, hoping she would say his name, his real name.

“There’s…” Emmeline sighed, looking skyward and deploring the lack of stars here. Of course, she _knew_ the stars were there, rationally. But after not seeing any for a while, she began to wonder if they were here at all. “No, there’s no one. No one I would share this kind of personal stuff with anyway.”

He didn’t seem happy with her answer, she noticed.

“Isn’t it enough that I tell you? You only made me promise that because you didn’t want me to bottle up my feelings after all.”

“I see the way you act with me. Like I only exist to you when I’m here and not outside of this balcony,” he told her, and she couldn’t have missed the sadness in his voice if she had tried. “You talk to me the same way you would write in a journal you intend to burn once full.”

“That’s not tr-“

“It is, even if you haven’t realized yet,” Peter insisted.

Maybe it was wrong to come here twice a week to check in on her, to hear about all the things she did not tell him during the day. All the things that she didn’t tell him, period.

It felt like cheating. When he talked to her as Spider-Man, she told him things that she didn’t want to tell Peter Parker, and it was wrong of him to listen to these secrets.

“I won’t come back after tonight,” he announced, having decided to leave her alone. He had to do this right if he really liked the girl – and he did, _God he liked her_.

She didn’t even attempt to argue, further confirming his sentiment of not even being _real_ to her. 

“Oh.” She looked disappointed but that was it. “Alright. I guess you couldn’t have come here forever.”

No, he couldn’t have. He only wished he had realized it sooner.

Spider-Man was a mask, and Peter had allowed himself to forget it because it allowed him to be close to the girl he liked. It was easier than being Peter Parker, awkward nerd who had set his eyes on a girl who was out of reach.

“You’re a nice girl, Emmeline,” he told her, refusing to use her nickname. “You might think nobody cares about a rich girl’s problems, but I’m sure you have friends who would listen. Just have a little faith.”

_Have a little faith_. It was a solid piece of advice that Peter was committed to follow too.


	5. Chapter 5

The week after his last visit to Emmeline as Spider-Man, he noted no changes in her behavior. He was hoping for something, but she was her usual self. She smiled at him when they saw each other in the hallway, she sat next to him in D.E., she studied with him on Thursday mornings before the first wave of students came in and started whispering around them.

At least, she acted like her usual self until the next Friday. Three months since their meeting on the lawn, and she finally realized that she didn't have to keep everyone out of her life in order to preserve her feelings. She had this epiphany while watching Peter walk out of his dorm with Tessa on his heels. She spotted the leash she had bought him, and it made her smile a little.

Peter was a good person. He was a profoundly decent person, he had heart, he was kind, she had never heard him be mean to anyone, she should be lucky to even have met him. Sometimes she remembered the way she had treated him the first time she saw him, and it made her want to crawl into a hole and never talk to another human being ever again.

Why was she hiding from him? She feared she knew the answer to that question but quickly dismissed the idea.

"Hey! Peter!" she called after him, running to catch up, despite her heels. "Peter wait!"

He stopped and turned around, watching people's faces over his shoulder until his eyes fell on her and his entire face lit up. Her heart leapt in her chest.

Emmeline crashed into his back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, much to his bafflement. He didn't expect this kind of physical display of affection, she wasn't one to be so demonstrative.

"Em!" He laughed at the way she clung to him, resting her chin on his shoulder. "What's the occasion?"

"The occasion? No occasion, just saw you and thought I'd walk with you."

She let go, much to his chagrin, and went to stand beside him, but not without slipping her hand around his elbow for support. He had noticed she did that whenever she wore heels. She could walk in them, she could even run in them, but it didn't stop her from holding his arm when they walked together, and Peter wasn't going to call her out on it.

"Were you walking home?"

He knew she had an extra class on Friday evenings, she signed up for Art classes or something – he wasn't sure because she stayed very vague about her whereabouts, in true Emmeline fashion. Maybe he was reading into things a little too much – she probably wasn't hiding anything from him in particular, she was just used to having to be extremely cautious with her private life because she wasn't safe from a public scandal.

"Yes, but I wouldn't mind taking a walk, I've been sitting in the same position for two hours," she told him with a groan, stretching with only one hand because she didn't let go of his arm. "And I'm a bit hungry. I could eat a hot dog."

"Yeah? A hot dog sounds good," Peter agreed with an approving nod. Tessa whined softly next to them.

"It's not actually dog meat, Tess," Emmeline chuckled, booping Tessa's nose. She too had to wear a muzzle when going out, and it broke her heart the same way it did when she had to put the muzzle on Bella. "Our dogs have never met," she suddenly told Peter.

"_I've_ never met your dog," he pointed out. "Then again, you live off campus, which explains it," he added, quickly looking ahead of him.

"True. And she doesn't like strangers anyway, she's a guard dog," Emmeline hummed quietly. The sound of her heels on the paved paths circling around the lawn in the middle of campus gave them a walking rhythm.

It was then that it hit him. Peter couldn't meet Bella, because Bella was supposed to be wary of strangers, but she would immediately recognize him as a friend because of all the time he had spent petting her as Spider-Man. How could he not have thought about this? Talk about shooting himself in the foot.

"Where were you heading?" she questioned, turning her head to look at him.

"Nowhere in particular, just getting some fresh air and maybe grab some takeout on the way back." Peter shrugged; he didn't have plans when he walked out, but he sure wished he had made some now that Emmeline was at his arm. Some people stared as they walked past, probably having recognized her – it must be that because now one knew _him_. "Unless you want to go somewhere?"

He congratulated himself for asking; her face lit up and he knew it was the right thing to say. Maybe she didn't want to be alone tonight.

"I'm trying to think of something where Tessa could come with," she said, already deep in thought, leaning a bit more against him.

"We can drop her off at my room again," Peter told her. "It's not a problem."

Emmeline laughed and glanced at him, a cheeky half smile dancing on her lips.

"Shush now, Peter. Don't sound so desperate to spend time with me," she teased him though if she were being honest with herself, it was the other way around. She had been the one lurching at him the second she spotted him and almost jumped on his back like a clingy koala bear.

Her banter was answered with a tense laugh and Peter put his free hand in his pocket.

"Maybe I am," he simply said. "You're pretty fluky, you know that? I barely get a glimpse of you some days."

"I'm keeping things interesting between us! Routine is lethal," she argued, whispering the words so close to his ear her breath tickled him slightly, as if to prove her point.

Goosebumps erupted on his skin, but he tried to keep it cool. She hadn't noticed the effect she had on him yet – which was a miracle Peter had every intention to take advantage of. He wasn't entirely socially inept; he could carry a normal conversation with her if he would just quit acting like a fool. _She's just a girl, just a regular, normal human being of the opposite sex_. A very pretty representative though.

"I call bullshit," Peter scoffed, finally regaining some control over himself. He got this. "Maybe you're just not that interesting?" he deliberately provoked her, smiling smugly when her jaw dropped a little and she poked him in the ribs.

They had an easygoing friendship despite Emmeline's efforts to keep Peter at arm's length. It made his heart drop a little every time, but he could tell she was doing her best. She wanted to spend time with him, she wanted to be close, he could tell as much. But somehow, she couldn't do it. She didn't allow herself to. He had yet to figure out what the reason for that was, but he figured it had something to do with her family – she simply never mentioned them. If he hadn't googled her, Peter wouldn't even know she was the daughter of the mayor.

"See, that's why I like to hang out with you, Parker." She sent him a sarcastic smile. "You really know how to sweet talk to girls."

"Thank you. It's a skill." He winked at her, wondering where this sudden smoothness came from but thanking heaven it did come after all.

They ended up walking for hours, until Tessa called it a day and began to tug on the leash to go back to Peter's dorm room. They still hadn't made plans for tonight, but neither of them was going to go their separate way yet. The night was still young.

*

The change came slowly – so slowly that Peter didn't see it coming and was simply smacked in the face when it hit him.

It happened when he sat on the floor in the corridor right outside the door to Emmeline's last class of the day. He arrived fifteen minutes early and decided to read through some of his notes instead of scrolling through his phone to keep his hands busy.

He realized that four months ago, he didn't know when, or where her last class of the day was. Four months ago, he didn't wait for her so they could go study together or grab coffee before walking his dog. Four months ago, she didn't know he existed.

And now? Now her number was in his phone under the name "M" – it took him forever to figure out it was her; she had put her number in it herself so she could send herself a message and have his number too.

A fluttery sensation in his chest made him feel light all of a sudden. For the first time in forever, he really felt like things were going his way. He wasn't stuck in a weird unrequited crush on an uptown girl. She actually liked to hang out with him; she stayed on campus way longer than necessary just to keep him company when he walked his dog, even though she would have to go out again later to walk her own dog.

It just hit him like a ton of bricks when he realized that maybe, she had opened up a little to him since he had stopped visiting her as Spider-Man. She hadn't told him about the attempted assault yet, but she shared pieces of herself still – which was good enough for now.

When the bell rang and the door swung open, Peter jumped on his feet and Emmeline was the first one out. Her beaming smile when she saw him made his heart skip a beat and he wished they lived in a world where creeps who assaulted girls in dark alleys, and superheroes who had to intervene didn't exist. He wished they lived in a world where he could kiss her hello and goodbye, and nothing was complicated.

She approached and grabbed his hand on her way past him, pulling him with her.

"Come on, we have to hurry," she told him with a laugh, urging him to pick up his pace.

"Where are we going?"

She had asked him if he was free this afternoon and he had said yes. Peter had no idea what she had planned but he was ready for just about anything. She could have announced that they would be skydiving, and he would have just nodded.

Ned had been wrong in saying that Emmeline would never even look at Peter, but he was spot on when he had told him he was a love-sick fool who was going to end up in trouble for this girl's pretty eyes.

"Have you ever been ax-throwing before?"

Well... he didn't expect that, but he was down.

"I have not," he laughed.

She had let go of his hand and they were now running towards the metro, attracting curious glances as they dashed across the lawn, Emmeline leading the way. Peter tried to not outrun her even though he easily could have.

"Why are we running?" he asked when she stopped at a red light once they reached an intersection.

"I booked a target, if we're late they are gonna give it to someone else," she explained, giving a light tap on his stomach and making him bend slightly forward. "I know you're fitter than you let on, don't lie to me. If we run, we can make it."

And they did. She was completely out of breath by the time they reached the front door or the place, and Peter hadn't even broken a sweat – he could have pretended to be worn for her sake, but after her little comment on his shape, he wasn't going to.

To be frank, he hadn't expected this afternoon to take this road at all. He thought maybe she wanted to have coffee, to visit the zoo, to go shopping, or whatnot. But he did not consider they would end up listening to some guy dressed like a lumberjack giving them safety instructions before showing them the right way to throw a tomahawk and explaining how the points system worked.

Peter sent a suspicious look to Emmeline who looked way too comfortable here, and he wondered if she had done this before. He wouldn't put it past her to throw axes in her spare time. Hell, he wouldn't even put it past her to know how to use a katana, and ride a horse, and play the organ. People with money made their children learn all kinds of freaky stuff. Shit, maybe she fenced too. He would have to ask later.

He couldn't say he was surprised when she grabbed the ax from the guy's hand and threw it at the target. Four points: it landed in the second ring from the inside out.

"Did you bring me here just to show off?" he asked her, accepting the weapon she handed him.

She shrugged while he took position, one foot on the line drawn on the ground. He had never done that, but he thought it couldn't be that hard, he just needed to put the adequate amount of strength into it... right?

He missed the target completely, but the ax still got stuck in the wood panel behind it, sending Emmeline into a fit of laughter. She had to wipe away tears of hilarity while Peter glared at her, hands on his hips in an attempt to look stern but having no success whatsoever.

"You-" She was still laughing too hard to talk. "You can't just-" No, she really couldn't speak yet.

Peter gave her a moment to laugh it out and calm down.

"You have to aim first, Peter," she finally said when she was able to articulate a full sentence. "Not just throw as hard as you can."

"Well, it's my first try and it's stuck in the wall, I wouldn't call it a total failure."

"Here, try again," she said, pulling the ax out of the wall and giving him again. "Don't let go before your arm is fully extended," she explained. "Maybe take a step or two back. You really got that arm strength."

He did as she instructed and after the fourth time, the ax was finally in the target. Nowhere near the center, but it was in it.

"How long have you been throwing axes? It's not a conventional Tuesday afternoon activity."

"A girl needs to let out some steam once in a while," she said offhandedly.

She got into position, aimed and threw, hitting the bull's eye.

"Whose face are you picturing when you throw that thing?"

Frankly, he expected another vague answer funny enough to distract him from asking more inquisitive questions, and nearly missed again when it was his turn to throw and she gave him an honest answer.

"My father's, most of the time."

Peter stared at her, the ax barely grazing the outer circle of the target. Emmeline shrugged again. She did a whole lot of shrugging and Peter was starting to think it meant the opposite of what she wanted to convey. It wasn't something she should be shrugging off.

"You never mentioned him before," he said, licking his lips. God, he was beginning to sweat. This hoodie wasn't made for physical exercise.

"We have a complication relationship." Emmeline pursed her lips and thought about it before continuing, eyes trained on her shoes as if they were the most fascinating sight she ever beheld. "I can't just talk shit about my family to vent," she explained. "It had consequences whenever I did it in the past. This led to a lot of resentment between us, and I've never been close to my parents in the first place. So yeah... I don't mention them that often – or at all."

She shrugged _again_ and this time Peter was sure it was a physical cue of her unease. He forgot about the ax and turned to her, but she seemed to need to throw it again. The mere mention of her parents lit a fire in her eyes, and he saw now why she came here. To exorcise her rage.

The angrier she was, the better her aim apparently.

"They are not your biological parents, right? I heard you speak to that doctor..." Peter trailed off, not entirely sure it was a good idea to admit to having eavesdropped but too curious not to ask.

"So, you _were_ listening that day," she said, letting out a bitter laugh. "Whatever. I don't care if people know, only my parents care about what the public opinion."

She was about to throw another ax, but Peter took ahold of her wrist to stop her.

"Does it make you mad?" he asked, staring into her dark, troubled eyes.

"It doesn't matter. Hiding it would be lying," she stated, lowering her arm. "I think it's enough for one afternoon, what do you say? Should we head out and go sit somewhere? My arms are killing me."

He wanted to insist, to ask a thousand questions, to know _more_. However, she had told him more about herself this afternoon than she had in the past few months, and he considered himself lucky enough for one day.


	6. Chapter 6

He couldn’t believe she was once again teasing him, getting a thrill out of his reaction. It was a real skill she had.

“Don’t be so modest, I saw the way you threw the ax, Parker. I don’t know what you’re trying to hide under that baggy sweatshirt of yours, but I admit I’m getting curiouser and curiouser. Makes me wonder how jacked you are under there.”

Peter’s face went through fifty shades of red in the span of five seconds, and Emmeline was beyond proud of herself for making him blush like that. She did seem to have a certain talent in embarrassing Peter; hopefully he knew it was all in good grace and she didn’t mean ill.

She twirled her empty cup between her fingers, smiling wickedly.

“You just love to see me wriggle in my chair when you say something like that,” he accused her.

“I’m not lying, though.” She raised a brow. “Emmeline Gerard only has one word, and it is true.”

Emmeline Gerard was also a huge flirt and if Peter wasn’t so dense, he would notice it. That was a typical male thing: to not see when a woman was openly hitting on them and then complain that they are always the ones who are expected to take the first step.

“Don’t care.” Peter crossed his arms over his chest – maybe to show off his biceps, maybe to show her he was mad, he wouldn’t admit to either. “I feel objectified all the same.”

“Here, have a cookie, you’ll feel better,” Emmeline enjoined him, pushing the treat towards him. “I didn’t mean it, quit sulking.”

“Oh, so you think I’m fat?” he asked in mock-offense as he grabbed the cookie and bit into it.

They both laughed and she swatted his shoulder for acting like an idiot.

“I’ll forgive you on one condition,” he started, the laughter dying down as he looked at her, locking his gaze on her and uncrossing his arms.

Her smile dropped.

“I’m not going to like it, am I?” she asked in a sigh. “Alright, I guess I brought this on myself. What do you wanna know?”

He wasn’t surprised that she had guessed what it was about. He hadn’t been able to think about anything else since she talked about her parents an hour ago. He just needed to know what went on in her life – Emmeline was so secretive! He was the one with a secret alter ego, yet she acted like she was secretly Batman.

He began to fidget, brows furrowed as he proceeded to tell her something he rarely ever brought up.

“It’s more of a request, actually. I- euh, I’m an orphan too,” he stated, making her drop her jaw and stop playing with her empty cup. “I understand better than anyone why you don’t like to talk about your parents, biological or adopted. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you ever want to talk to someone… you know, instead of throwing sharp deadly weapons around-“ He smiled a little and she mirrored the expression. They had both sobered up pretty quickly after his opening statement. “You can talk to me.”

She shrugged.

“I don’t remember much; I wouldn’t know what to say even if I wanted to talk about it. I was so young…” She sighed, eyes not leaving his. “My adoptive parents are the only ones I know, and they are basically strangers to me. What about you? Any luck in that area?”

“I wasn’t really adopted like you think.” Peter chewed on his lip and rubbed his chin. “One day my parents left me in the care of my aunt and uncle, and they just never came back. Plane crash,” he explained. “I can remember them but sometimes I forget what they looked like. It’s scary to think that I could forget them entirely one day.”

“How’s life with your aunt and uncle?” Emmeline pushed him, the eagerness visible in the way she stared wide-eyed, fingers tugging at her sleeve.

“My uncle died when I was in high school, during a robbery gone wrong.” Jesus Christ, it hurt to talk about it, more than he had anticipated, but he could see that his words finally reached her, moved her. They acted like a key unlocking something. She was drinking up his every word. “Life was good with them. Aunt May is the best, and I couldn’t have asked for better parents than them.” He swallowed with difficulty, wondering what kind of parents he had before that fateful plane crash.

His increasingly dark train of thought was interrupted when he felt a warm hand resting on his closed fist. He looked up again, finding Emmeline’s concerned eyes set on him.

“But enough with the pathetic story of my life.”

Slowly, he loosened his fist, relaxing under her touch. Emmeline didn’t move her hand, rather she let her fingers slip in his now unstrained fist.

“I’d drink to that if my cup wasn’t empty,” Emmeline chuckled, humorlessly. He watched her mood shift under his eyes, becoming bitter. She sucked in her cheeks and focused on their joined hands. “Did you vote for my father at the last election?”

“… yes,” Peter admitted, feeling it wasn’t the right answer though it was the truth.

“I didn’t. I told him I did, of course. He never even considered I could vote for someone else; it was a given that the family would vote for him.”

“Why didn’t you?” Peter asked in what was barely above a whisper. Her aura exuded rancor.

“I’m not a difficult person, or at least, I don’t think so. I never wished for all the things I have today, all the… the money, the reputation, the social status… It was all so abstract to the little girl I was. I just wanted parents, you know?”

Peter nodded; he thought he knew where she was going.

“But it wasn’t what I got. I would often cry about it to my friends in the beginning, but quickly got shut down. I found out at an early age that people do not pity the rich, even if it’s a crying little girl who longs for some form of parental love,” she spat out the last part, still resenting the people who had turned their back on her when she needed them. It was Peter’s turn to squeeze her hand. “So, here you go. That’s why I’m such a stuck-up bitch today. No one’s ever told me it was okay to talk about how I feel, until a few months ago.”

“What happened a few months ago?”

Peter’s entire body had tensed up at this point. He could hear his blood pulsing in his temples and waited for the bomb. He already knew the answer, but it would have been strange not to ask. He was the one who told her to talk to a friend, that someone _cared_, that someone would _listen_.

Emmeline seemed to recompose herself and shook her head a little, letting him go and pushing away her cup, clearing her throat. When she looked up, the dark clouds in her eyes had dissipated.

“You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you,” she said with a forced laugh, turning her attention to the window. “I hadn’t realized it was already dark outside, I should get going. Bella’s waiting for me.”

“Do you want me to walk you home?” he asked, accepting that this was as much information he would get for today and thinking about nothing but the night he found her being pressed against a wall, blouse ripped open, a man with a hand down his pants all over her.

He saw the hesitation cross her face, but she must have had the same thought as him; she stood up and grabbed her coat before looking at him.

“Yes, please.”

*

That night Peter broke one of his own new rules and stopped by her place on his way back from a mission. He couldn’t help it, as much as he had tried.

When he knocked on the window, Bella immediately began to jump excitedly, pawing at the glass and barking. It must have been double glazing because he barely heard a thing at all. Emmeline soon walked into the living room, toothbrush in her mouth, raising her arms in a “what the fuck man” gesture. At least, that was how Peter interpreted it.

She walked back where she came from, and reappeared a minute later, with no more toothbrush.

“Thought you wouldn’t come here again,” she said as a way of greeting him when she opened the French window, letting Bella out to greet him properly.

“At least _someone’s_ happy to see me,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her as he sat down to play with her dog. “I totally just came to see Bella by the way, you can go back inside.”

Emmeline wasn’t amused and she let him know.

“Alright, alright. I just wanted to see how far along you were with that deal of ours,” he told her, raising both hands in surrender.

“How-“ she made a helpless hand gesture. “How do you know? How can you possibly know that I finally talked to someone today? Who the fuck are you?”

“Ugh, language, young lady,” he giggled, standing up to talk to her at eye-level. “Let’s say I have a spider sense that tells me those things.”

“This is very weird.”

“How is it any weirder than feminine intuition? I’m listening.”

“Half the human population has it,” she stated, point blank. “It’s a real thing, unlike your… spidey- tingle.”

“Spider sense,” he corrected her.

“Same difference.”

“You are being very difficult tonight. I thought you’d be in a lighter mood now that you unburdened yourself a little bit,” he whined, pointing a finger at her. Emmeline didn’t give two shits that he was Spider-Man, she swatted his accusing finger away and took a step forward.

“Tone it down a notch, Spidey-boy,” she warned him. “I held my end of the bargain, now I get to be in whatever mood I want.”

“It wasn’t a bargain; I didn’t promise anything in exchange.”

“Well then I want something.” She planted her feet firmly on the ground, and her hands on her hips.

Peter sighed, regretting this impromptu visit already, though he couldn’t deny he loved their superhero and civilian banter. The way she stood up to him would have made him shrivel away a few years back, but he was glad he had grown out of his awkward teenager phase and could stand up for himself now.

Though the awkward teenage still showed once every now and then, most of the time when she said something saucy.

“I’m not swinging you around New York,” he warned her. “Last time I did that, the girl got sick.”

“That’s not what I want,” Emmeline scoffed, waving her hand to dismiss his idea. “Who would ask for that anyway? We’re in December, my nose would freeze and fall off.”

“Alright, name your price then, princess.”

“Do not start using pet names, or I will wipe the floor with your ass, Spidey-boy.” For a second, he thought she just might. “Just promise to make sure that what happened to me doesn’t happen to another girl, yeah? That’s my price.”

Peter wasn’t expecting this request, but he nodded without thinking about it. It was a given.

“I will.”

“Good. Now fuck off of my balcony. I was going to bed,” she shooed him away, like you did to a stray cat.

“You’re so mean to me!”

“It’s tough love, baby!” She laughed and waved him goodbye through the window, waiting until he left, and Bella strutted back inside to close the door. “He’s a bit strange for a superhero, don’t you think?”

*

Emmeline never talked about Spider-Man to Peter, but he could still see the way their late-night chats affected her moods. She was often less grumpy when he visited her. It made him feel terrible because they were both becoming dependent on his visits, and as odd as it might sound, Peter was jealous of his alter ego. Jealous because Emmeline seemed to like Spider-Man better than Peter Parker.

But Emmeline didn’t sit next to Spider-Man in class, she sat next to Peter, and for that he was infinitely grateful. She was better than him in physics anyway, it was a nice change from always being the nerdy one. Then again, when you’re a biophysics post-grad, the chances of you being the only nerd in the room were very slim.

“Will you be my partner?” she asked him, bursting his little bubble of silent contemplation. He hadn’t realized he had zoned out in the middle of class until she spoke up.

“Uh?” was all he was capable of answering.

“The assignment. We should do it together, partner-up,” she clarified. “You weren’t listening, were you?”

Peter flinched and grimaced a little, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No?”

“You’ve being doing that a lot lately. Don’t you sleep at night?”

_Not as much as I’d like_, he thought. Somehow, when he wasn’t visiting her as Spider-Man, it was because he was hanging out with her as Peter Parker, and the rest of the time he spent on Spider duty. He knew he was heading towards burn out, but he couldn’t hit the breaks either.

“I’ll sleep when I’m dead,” he replied in a failed attempt to sound cool. She narrowed her eyes at him. “But I’ll do the assignment with you, sure. I’ll need your notes though, I have some catching up to do.”

“Not a problem.” She pulled out her agenda to scribble something down. “Since you were daydreaming again, let me recap for you: the assignment is due January 8th, jot that down. I’ll bring my notes this Thursday when we meet at the library, is that okay?”

“You’re the best,” Peter told her with a crooked smile that was meant to be charming. Emmeline rolled her eyes.

“Don’t tell anyone, I have a reputation.”

“When should we start working then?” he asked, changing the subject. Another thing he noticed: she didn’t like compliments.

“We can start tonight if you want. You won’t need my notes to decide on a topic and get started,” she suggested. “My place, 7p.m.?”

A resounding alarm began to pound in Peter’s head, reminding him that one meeting with her dog would give him away on the spot.

“Didn’t you say Bella doesn’t like strangers?” he questioned, trying to find a way out of this. “We won’t get much done if she’s busy barking up at me.”

“She’s not home at the moment. She must have eaten something bad because she kept vomiting and whining. I brought her to the vet, she’ll be back at the end of the week.”

Peter knew how much she loved Bella, and the pitiful sigh she let out at the end of her explanation constricted his heart. There he was, trying to dodge out of a study session with the girl he liked to preserve his secret identity, while she was lonely in her huge apartment because her beloved four-legged companion was sick.

“I’m sorry. I’m sure she’ll be alright.” She nodded and forced a smile. “And tonight works fine for me.”

“Bring Tessa, I haven’t seen her in a week.”


	7. Chapter 7

“You know,” Emmeline started, spinning her phone on the table, legs crossed, sitting on her balcony while Spider-Man laid in a web-hammock that dangled from the balcony above hers. “You sound way younger than I thought you were.”

He folded his arms behind his neck and crossed his legs at the ankles.

“I’m not _that_ young…” he argued, although not very convincingly. “I’m an adult, legally. I don’t magically turn into my civilian self on the stroke of midnight.”

“I know that, you hang out here _way_ past midnight,” she laughed and stopped playing with her phone to better look at him. His gaze was still trained on the skyline, lost in his thoughts. They didn’t always talk much, but it was nice to just chat a little and share comfortable silence. “Still, I thought you were an actual adult, not just _legal_.”

“What does that even mean?” Spider-Man suddenly sat up, looking at her. “I’m an _actual_ adult.”

“I don’t believe that! I think you’re my age, and I’m not even close to being a real adult,” Emmeline huffed, leaning back and crossing her arms on her chest.

“What’s a real adult, then?”

“Someone who has a job, is financially independent, is well established in life, has their shit together-“ she began to list off and Peter had to cut her off.

“Alright, alright, if that’s your criteria then I suppose I’m not an adult. Does friendly neighborhood Spider-Man not count as a job?” he still asked.

“Not if you’re not paid to do it, my friend.”

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath. “But still, being an adult isn’t all about exterior things like money and status. It’s a feeling too.”

“Like it just dawns on you the first time you fill a tax form?” Emmeline suggested. “Because I don’t pay taxes, I don’t pay for anything, and that’s exactly my point. I’m not a functioning adult, I’m a kept woman at best,” she laughed bitterly and cracked open her beer. “Or is it when you don’t need to use a fake ID to buy beer anymore?”

As if on cue, Emmeline leaned down to grab a can of beer from the bucket of ice and threw it to him. He caught it without batting an eyelash.

“Good ones, but not what I meant. Like, what made you realize deep down, what changed inside of you?" Peter argued, rolling his eyes under his mask.

“Oh, you mean the newfound crippling anxiety regarding anything that is farther into the future than next week? Yeah, I have that now, fun times!”

“That's funny. You're funny,” Peter said, playing with his beer but not drinking it. He never drank the beers she offered, he suspected she was trying to force him to take his mask off, using politeness as an excuse.

“What about you?”

“For me it was...” He pursed her lips as if thinking really hard about it. “...back pain. Back pain and insomnia. One often deriving from the other.”

She threw her head back and laughed more frankly this time, filling Peter with an odd sense of accomplishment for making her laugh.

*

Peter had been here dozens of times and now he had to pretend _really_ hard to never have been. Granted, he had never stepped in, but Emmeline’s large balcony offered a pretty great view on the inside what with the large window panels she had instead of walls. It wasn’t the safest kind of housing, he had to say. What was it with rich people and windows? They were obsessed with lighting. Then again, he would wager Emmeline did not pick this apartment for herself. He had known her for months now and he found she had rather modest tastes and never judged something by the price tag, so to speak.

With the notable exception of the leash she bought him the day they really met. He googled it and, boy, it was _expensive_. But another thing he had noticed was that nothing was too good for her dog – or his, actually. Tessa had gained a doting aunt of sorts the day Emmeline decided to become his friend.

It was the first time he came in through the front door though, it had to count for something. He wasn’t Spider-Man escorting a girl who had been assaulted – or Spider-Man being an over-zealous superhero who kept checking in on her even though he knew she was safe and sound. He was Peter Parker, and Emmeline Gerard had invited him to her penthouse so they could work together.

She closed the front door and they took off their shoes and coats. Tessa zoomed in and began to walk around, getting familiar with the place.

“It’s the first time you invite me here, and we’ve known each other for months,” he pointed out, good heartedly. It was a teasing comment, nothing else, and he was taken aback by her serious answer.

“This place hasn’t seen many visitors since I moved in five years ago.”

Not at all what had had expected to hear. On the contrary, he imagined having such a gigantic place to yourself would prompt anyone to try and fill it with people, with life. It must be quite lonely to be on your own in there.

“I’ve just never been comfortable with having people over.”

Emmeline shrugged, biting the inside of her cheek. She tried to play it off as a casual remark, but Peter was having none of it and decided to push her a little for answers, to see if she would shut him off or not. He was hoping they were past that and she trusted him a little now, especially after they heart to heart moment where they talked about their parents. It had been a one-time thing, but he sensed she was more relaxed around him from then on.

“Why not?” Peter made a 360-degree spin, taking in it all in. That was something he had never thought he would see. Being inside a penthouse wasn’t really new to him since he met Tony in high school, but being in Emmeline’s place was exhilarating.

“It always feels like they are invading my space, always… snooping.”

Yeah, Peter got that. Especially since he had so many secrets to hide from so many people.

“Your place is fancier than any place I’ve ever been to.”

“Now that’s not true, you’re working with Tony Stark,” she countered, leaning against the back of her couch and crossing her arms over her chest.

He couldn’t believe the Stark internship excuse was still a thing. It had been seven years since it started, and no one seemed to find it strange.

“Alright, you got me there.” Peter couldn’t deny the truth after all. “I still think your place looks nicer.” His shoulders rose so high his neck disappeared. “It’s cozier. And I work in the lab most of the time when I go to Stark Tower, not in his last floor billionaire penthouse.” Also known as the Avengers compound, that he wasn’t supposed to know about.

“Right, right.” She waved off his comment and looked away. “I still try to keep the visitors to a minimum. It’s just awkward. Like what you’re doing right now!”

“What?” Peter frowned, a sliver of a smile on his lips. “What _am_ I doing?”

He wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary as far as he was concerned. He was just standing in front of her, hands in his pockets, looking around a bit – he tried to spot little details that would tell him a bit more about her. Emmeline was such a private person.

“You’re standing there, looking at everything around you like you’re in a museum, probably wondering how much some of it costs, and you don’t even know if you’re allowed to touch anything, hence the hands in the pockets,” she listed everything he did wrong unbeknownst to him.

Peter immediately took his hands out of his pockets and grabbed a little glass sphere that sat on a wooden base to prevent it from rolling away. He twirled it around in his hand, playing with it and glancing at her with a smug little smirk.

“What’s that little thingy?”

“That’s an original 1920s crystal art piece by French glassmaker Lalique, it’s worth 700,000 dollars,” she recited as though she had been an auctioneer in her past life, watching Peter nearly drop the little glass ball out of sheer shock, only shortly catching the priceless art object before it shattered on her floor, then replaced the thing on its stand with shaking hands.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, blushing like crazy.

Emmeline laughed and walked past him, sliding a hand on his upper arm to gesture him to follow her.

“I’m just kidding Peter, it’s just blown glass,” she giggled, looking at his decomposed face.

“Not funny!”

“But it proves my point.”

“Which is that your place is too fancy for your working class friends?” Peter asked, just to annoy her after the joke she just made at his expense. It was only fair.

Emmeline stopped at the kitchen island, placing her hands flat against the marble.

“No, I don’t like having people come here because it makes the gap between us bigger than it needs to be; they judge me based on all of this.” She gestured around them.

“May I advise you to not flail your 1920s French glasswork at them, then?” Peter suggested humorously.

She didn’t laugh.

“It’s a goddamn snow globe Peter, I wasn’t serious.”

“Got it.” Peter swallowed with some difficulty. Clearly, he had tackled a sensitive topic, he couldn’t back down now though, and apparently joking wasn’t the right approach.

“When people see this place, they have one of two reactions: there are those who start thinking that we live in different worlds and stop inviting me to stuff because it’s not fancy enough for me to hang out in their two hundred square feet flat and eat Domino’s Pizza. And then, there are those who think they can take advantage of me.”

“Who would do that?”

“A shockingly high number of people, Peter. People are disgusting,” she deadpanned. “Everyone in this city knows I come from money, but it’s not until they see how I live that they take the full measure of what it means. Making friends isn’t the easiest thing in the world.”

That was when Tessa decided to butt in and strut over to Emmeline, sitting right by her feet and looking up with big, sparkly eyes, as if knowing that she was the one to go to is she wanted something.

“You have Bella at least,” Peter said, thinking of her own dog.

He had never formally met Bella; only Spider-Man had. She was at the vet for a few days because she had stepped on some glass shards and had needed stitches. Maybe that was the reason why he was even allowed here. After all, Bella was trained to not let strangers near Em, and as far as she was concerned, that’s what he was to her protective dog. Bella’s absence was also why he agreed to come. He was dying to see her apartment, but he also didn’t want to give his identity away.

He wanted to echo her little explanation with his own experience and found he could not. He didn’t come from money, his father wasn’t someone important like hers, but he did have his own issues with making close friends, for different reasons than her. And he felt like a fraud suddenly, sitting here in her kitchen, in her home that she opened for him even though she despises bringing people here, forcing her to talk about things that stung, and yet not reciprocating.

“Yes, what would I do without her?”

A large, goofy smile replaced the stern expression on her face when she bent over to pet her.

“Are you hungry, Tessa? I know it’s dinner time. C’mon, I’ll fill Bella’s bowl for you.”

He didn’t add anything and just sat on the bar stool by the kitchen island while Emmeline went to get Tessa’s food and filled her bowls water, and a mix of dry dog food and meat leftovers from the fridge.

“Follow me,” she told him this time instead of touching his arm.

A flash of electricity coursed through Peter when she had placed her hand on his bicep just a few minutes ago, and he wouldn’t have minded if Emmeline had dragged him all the way to where she wanted to go by the arm this time around.

Actually, he just really would have liked to hold her hand.

She stopped outside a closed door and took a deep breath, then turned around to meet his questioning eyes.

“Just so you know, I wasn’t talking about you.”

“Huh?”

“I know you’re not like those people who just want to be friends with me for my family’s money and influence,” she explained. “At least, I hope so.” Her eyes shifted when she said the last part.

“Hey, hey,” Peter whispered, taking the step separating them to place his hands on her shoulders and make her look up. “Em, you could be living in a cardboard box and be a nobody’s daughter and you’d still be the most amazing person I’ve ever met.”

That was it: the lamest, most ridiculous thing that ever crossed his lips in front of this girl – and God knows he already blurted out some dumb shit in his times of awkwardness.

She smiled softly, her eyes darting down a little while she placed a hand on Peter’s elbow to make him let go of her. It made her feel warm – whether it was his words or his touch, she couldn’t tell. But she didn’t let herself ponder the thought too long.

“Thank you for saying that. It means a lot.” And it took her a lot of effort not to start crying like a little girl, but she had pretty good control over her emotions. Living in the public eye tended to do that to someone. “You win.”

Peter’s eyebrows rose and he gave her a confused look, planting his hands on his hips and watching her step back, one hand already reaching out for the door handle.

“I win? I win what?”

Emmeline was pleased to hear the utter confusion in his voice and not an ounce of greediness.

“The right of entry.”

When she opened the door, Peter wasn’t surprised to see it was her room, but he was surprised by the room itself. It was nothing like the rest of the apartment that resembled a design magazine front cover and was so white and pristine it blinded him a little.

This bedroom was warm.

He wolf-whistled.

“Now, that’s more like it,” he said with a laugh, letting his fingers play with a leaf from a ceiling plant.

“More like what?” Emmeline walked over to her bed and hastily draped the duvet over it, smoothing it out. _Someone didn’t make her bed this morning_, Peter thought, amused by her need to make things look perfect, even though there was no need at all.

“You, obviously.”

It was still far fancier than anything he owned, but it was toned down. It was presented in a normal, a-twenty-something-lives-here kind of way, and not like a professional interior designer did it all. There was no ikea furniture in his room, but it had this homey feel that he thought this building lacked the first time he followed her here.

“I can’t tell if it’s a good thing, but I’m going with a ‘thank you’,” Emmeline laughed. “Don’t take this in a weird way, but you’re the first person I show my room.”

“Not even-“ Peter stopped before saying something out of line, but Emmeline just stared blankly at him, one very unimpressed eyebrow raised at him.

“C’mon,” she said. “Say it.”

“It’s none of my business,” Peter argued to get himself out of this situation. She was obviously holding back a smile, and he couldn’t help but think she was enjoying watching him fumble a little too much.

“You were going to ask anyway, and you obviously want to know,” she replied, sitting down in her desk chair, legs crossed.

If she pushed on her leg and rolled the chair a bit backwards to get in the shaded corner of the room, the resemblance with that scene in The Godfather would be uncanny.

Peter braced himself, seeing no way out of this that didn’t involve backflipping out of her window to escape.

“Not even… your boyfriends?” he eventually asked, feeling supremely embarrassed that he would even be concerned to hear the answer and blushing like nobody’s business.

“No,” she simply answered. “I use the guest bedroom when I have a boy over. This is my room, it’s private.”

“Then why-“

She sent him a sharp look and Peter swallowed down his question, mimicking to zip his mouth shut.

“Go get your laptop,” she told him, the slightest of smiles adorning her face, matching the mischievous glimmer in her dark eyes. “You wanted to partner up for this tutorial, so let’s get to work.”

He should feel lucky being here at all and stop questioning why.


	8. Chapter 8

“Hey, kid,” Tony called him, making Peter look up from the 3D project he was working on, some new gadget for his suit. “Care to give a hand? I only have two.”  
Tony was struggling with a giant pipe that he was trying to bring all the way across the room to the opposite wall, to achieve not even God knows what. Peter had asked, mind you, but the answer had been as vague as it was complex, and he wasn’t entirely sure he understood any of it.   
With Peter’s help, it was done quickly. Tony often forgot the kid had super strength – or maybe he just didn’t like to be reminded of his own lack of superpowers when he wasn’t wearing the Iron suit. Peter thought the second option more likely, as Tony had sounded immensely offended that one time Peter called him ‘old man’.   
He grunted when they put the pipe down, then stretched his neck.   
“Haven’t seen your face around in a while,” he commented. “I chose to take it as a good sign. Nothing bad happen in Queens these days?” Tony inquired.  
Peter shrugged – he had definitely picked up that habit from Emmeline.   
“Nothing worth mentioning,” he answered, sitting down on the pipe, elbows resting on his knees. “It’s been a while since anything serious happened. It’s mostly small crimes, robberies, drug dealings, sexual assaults.” His mouth became a little dry. “I’ve got it, don’t you worry, Mr. Stark.”  
“It’s been how many years and you still call me Mr. Stark. I’m gaining in age but I’m still Tony for you,” he told him – again. He might as well repeat it until his tongue fell off, Peter would always call him Mr. Stark, doing otherwise went against everything he was taught.   
“What about you? Any villain sightings to report?” Peter asked, electing to ignore his previous remark because they both knew it wasn’t going to happen.   
“Mmh, no. It’s been terribly boring the last two years. I keep all my eyes open but nothing worth my attention came up.” He sat on a desk chair and rolled it all the way back to his desk, opening his emails and creating a 3D projection to show Peter. “See this? I’ve been filtering the emails of all the politicians and important figures that are, were, or plan to come to New York. I’d appreciate it if you could keep this on the downlow by the way, it’s not exactly legal, I just took the liberty,” he added, sending Peter a sharp glance. Peter raised both hands in the air.   
“Anything interesting?”  
“Oh, the usual threats from unhappy and concerned citizens of our beautiful city, but they all appear to be all bark and no bite,” Tony said offendedly, deleting messages as he spoke. “But then, there’s this one. It looks pretty personal so I’m not too worried, but it’s the only serious one. Looks like mister mayor did someone dirty.”  
Peter froze. Tony was reading through the message again, trying to pick up clues but it was too short and to the point to hide any kind of intertextual clue about the person who sent it. It was a death threat, telling Pascal Gerard to go f*** himself and that he should stay locked inside if he didn’t want a bullet between the eyes.   
He couldn’t help but wonder what Emmeline would say if she knew her father was receiving colorful death threats. A part of her wouldn’t be surprised, that he was sure of. He half expected her to send some of them herself – she was big on letting out the steam after all.   
“Should we keep an eye open then?” Peter asked.  
He would keep both eyes open, regardless of what Tony told him. Both eyes wide open and set on Emmeline.   
“I’ll take care of it, kid,” Tony said, spinning around to face him. “No need to worry, politicians are used to these messages, it’s nothing new under the sun.”  
He wanted to keep his mouth shut, he should have kept his mouth shut, but Peter couldn’t keep his mouth shut.  
“What about his family? He has a daughter, right?”   
Tony stopped mid-gesture when he was about to throw a decorative art piece in the air, staring at Peter with a curious kind of smile.   
“He does, yes. She’s the same age as you,” he told him, not dropping the self-satisfied smirk. Peter really should have kept his mouth shut. “Actually, I’m pretty sure she’s majoring in biophysics at Columbia too. What a coincidence!”  
“Alright, I get it,” Peter said, rolling his eyes and standing up. “You already knew, you were baiting me!”  
Tony had the gall to look offended.   
“I would never.” Peter squinted his eyes. “So, how are things going? Asked her on a date yet? Is she as smart as she is pretty?”  
Peter groaned and ran a hand through his hair, turning around. He should have known better and just kept his damn mouth shut.   
“Actually, she is. Now that you mention her, I wanting to ask you something-“  
“No.”  
“You didn’t even let me say what I-“  
“Yeah, no. It’s a no,” Tony cut him off, wincing and shaking his head. “A big no.”  
“Would you let me finish?” Peter crossed his arms over his chest. Tony had watched him grow up and gain in confidence over the years, but since he still couldn’t bring the kid to call him ‘Tony’, he still held the authority. “She could come work in the lab. Her place is here, I know it.”  
“You know jack shit,” Tony said with an eyeroll. “My lab isn’t the right place to hit on a girl, Peter.”  
“I’m not asking because getting her through the doors of the Tower would make me earn points with her,” he assured Tony. “Though it would. Just sayin’. Please, think about it. She’s very resourceful, she might have some good ideas you’d like to listen to.”  
“It’s still a no. What about keeping your secret identity a secret?” This argument was always Tony’s last resort, Peter could already taste the victory.   
“She doesn’t know I’m Spider-Man but everyone knows you're Iron Man. Even if she finds my Spidey underwear in your lab, she won't connect it to me, but to you. You're an Avenger, Spiderman is an Avenger. It makes sense.”  
Tony rolled his eyes and pointed at Peter with a piece of hand shaped metal he that picked up from his desk.  
“You-“ he began, pausing for dramatic effect. “-are justifying bringing her here because you want to show off to the girl you like. Are you a peacock, Peter?”   
“No, bu-“   
“Then don't act like one.”   
“I'm not, Mr Stark, just-“ Peter closed his mouth and shook his head, becoming serious now. “Trust me on this, please. She belongs in this lab. And also... also- I'd like you to meet her.” 

*

Tony ended up agreeing and Peter would never know what convinced him. However, he was content with seeing the look of bafflement on Emmeline’s face when they entered the elevator in Stark Tower, and F.R.I.D.A.Y asked Peter if they were going to the lab. Her eyes shone brighter than a kid’s a Christmas morning.   
“Did the elevator just speak to you personally?” she wondered.  
“Not the elevator, miss,” the disembodied voice came again. “My name is F.R.I.D.A.Y and I am the A.I created by Mr. Stark to help him manage his affairs.”  
She asked F.R.I.D.A.Y relentless questions until the doors opened again and Peter dragged her out.  
“C’mon now, F.R.I.D.A.Y is everywhere, not just in the elevator.”  
“That is correct,” the A.I spoke again when they entered the lab. “I’m at your service if you need anything, miss Gerard.”  
“She knows my name!” she wondered, eyes going wide.   
“Yes, she has facial recognition and everything,” Peter explained.   
But Emmeline’s attention was elsewhere already. She didn’t know where to look, she was surrounded by what must certainly be the most advances pieces of technology in the world, only God and Tony Stark knew what all of these machines could do, and she was in the presence of one of them.  
“Ah! You must be Emmeline,” Tony quipped, smiling as he turned around on his chair, a strange piece of metal attached to his head and covering his right eye. He removed the helmet-like device and set it on the table. “Peter told me a lot of good things about you.”  
“Did he now?” she laughed nervously, squeezing Peter’s arm tighter than necessary as a warning. What on heaven and earth did he tell Tony Stark about her? “I’m sure he exaggerated.”  
“I’d be greatly disappointed if he oversold your abilities,” Tony said, coming up to greet her. He wiped his hands on a towel and swung it over his shoulder before shaking her hand as a formal greeting. “But we’ll find out soon anyway.”  
She raised an eyebrow and glanced at Peter. He shrugged. He didn’t know what Tony had planned for her; he only knew what work he was assigned.   
“Peter, why don’t you go play in a corner and leave us alone, will you?”   
Tony smirked and Peter knew, he knew it was payback for insisting on bringing Em here. Tony often helped Peter get the full experience of having embarrassing parents, which he never got to experience with his own. Reluctantly, he scooted over to his workshop, still glancing towards Em and Tony who now walked to a different part of the lab, their backs turned to him.   
Peter was patient. He was very patient. He waited to whole hours before leaving his desk to go see what Emmeline was working on. He could see her being crouched over a desk through the glass walls of the office Tony assigned her. Sometimes she stood up and stood by the 3D holographic table but he couldn’t make out what she was doing.   
When he knocked on her glass door, she jumped back so high he had to make fun of her.  
“Ha. Ha. So funny. Buzz off, Parker, I’m busy trying not to throw away my one chance at impressing Tony Stark,” she said, shoving him out of her way.  
Peter resisted and pushed back, looking over her shoulder to see what she was doing.  
“The Iron suit?” he asked, surprised. “What did he ask you to do?”  
She sighed and stopped trying to kick him out.  
“He asked me to take a look at it and suggest modifications to improve it.” He knew that tone, he recognized that tone because he was usually the one using it. She was stuck. “It feels like working on a finished product. Of course, everything can always be improved, but this suit...” She let her fingers run over the blueprint of the helmet, following the line of the mask. “It's the most advanced and complex piece of technology I've ever seen, and it's been undergoing constant upgrades for years and years by the one Tony Stark. It goes underwater and to space. Resists scalding and freezing temperatures alike. Has a wider range of weapons than anything I can think of. The A.I provides more information than any built-in system ever could. I just- I don't feel like I can do anything better. I’m just not… there yet.”  
“He’s probably just testing you, to be fair. I don’t think he expects you to actually improve his suit in one day, even he can’t do that. Like you said, it underwent upgrades over the course of the years. It didn’t become that-“ He made a hand gestures towards the blueprints. “-in one day,” Peter tried to reassure her.   
“I’m sure you’re right.” She didn’t sound convince, and while Peter understood where her frustration came from, he couldn’t do anything about it. He didn’t have the slightest idea how to improve Tony’s suit, and even if he did, she wouldn’t want to cheat and use his idea. “I’ll tell Tony.”  
“If there’s anything-“  
“You got me in, Peter,” she interrupted him with a smile. “You’ve already done more than enough.”  
With a tight-lipped smile and a nod, peter wished her good luck and returned to his own devices, keeping an eye on her back the whole time. She told F.R.I.D.A.Y that she’d like to speak to Tony and he came not five minutes later.  
“I can’t do it. It far above my level, and I would take me days just to browse through all the features the suit already has, let alone come up with a new one. I’m sorry.” The shame and self-disappointment were clear in her voice. Tony gave her a crooked smile.   
“Alright, kid. Let’s find you something more in your range, yeah?” He never expected her to do anything to his suit, he only wanted to assess her reaction when he put her to a task too great for her. He watched her look at the blueprints, flip through his notes, listened to his journal entries and disassemble his suit with the 3D table to try and see all the layers. She had done good, even if she thought otherwise. “Follow me.”  
Head down and spirits at their lowest, Emmeline followed Tony from desk to desk, watching him take this or that device in his hands, have a quick look at it, then put it back down, probably deciding that it was yet another thing that was beyond her abilities. She was wasting his time.   
They were approaching Peter’s workshop now, catching his attention. Emmeline looked up and winced a little, wishing he would focus on his work – she was embarrassed enough of her failure.   
Suddenly, she froze mid-stride and looked to her right. Something had caught her eye, and Tony noticed. Something red and blue, stored away behind a glass panel.   
“You know Spider-Man,” was the first thing she said when he looked over his shoulder to see what fascinated her so.   
“Hum?” Tony hummed, pretending to be disinterested. “Oh yeah. I'm his designer. He swings by some times,” he chuckled as if he was in on a joke she didn’t get.  
From the other side of the room, Tony could see Peter glaring at him and making big arm gestures to tell him to stop talking. He had left the nano suit there on purpose.   
For months now, Emmeline had contemplated the idea of telling Peter about her encounter with Spider-Man. Not because the super hero kept nagging her about talking to someone about her traumatic experience, but because she felt alone with her secret. Like it was a wall between her and Peter.   
He caught her daydreaming sometimes, looking into the distance, eyes trained on the skyline, and when he asked her what she was thinking about, she was tempted to tell him the truth. That she was thinking about Spider-Man. Of course, he wouldn’t understand. How random that would be! She could have to explain what happened, how Spider-Man saved her and then made it his duty to check on her every now and then. She would admit to missing his visits now that they became scarcer and scarcer.  
But would he understand? Would he even believe her? A part of her liked to think that Peter wouldn’t put her word in question, but it didn’t mean that he would understand. Besides, sharing her secret with someone else felt akin to betrayal. She had confided many a secret in Spider-Man, and she hoped he didn’t repeat any of them to anyone. Maybe he had too. Maybe he had told her things he didn’t tell anyone else. How would he feel if she shared that with a boy on the sole ground that she liked him?   
Therefore, she kept quiet. She kept everything to herself.   
“Can I take a look at it?” Emmeline asked before she could think twice.   
“Oh, it's not finished and I had something different in mind since suits don't seem to be your thing-“   
“I actually have a few ideas for that one,” she said, rather cryptically, eyes not deviating from the suit behind the glass panel. “Can I see it up close?”   
“You look much more interested in Spider-Man's suit than mine,” he commented, barely hiding his grin, watching Peter walk towards them from the corner of his eye. “Are you a fan?”  
Em flinched and finally turned towards Tony.   
“He... helped me out once. I'd like to repay the favor if I can.”   
Peter froze and stayed back, watching Tony's proud grin and Em's beaming smile when he gestured her to go in and take a closer look.   
“Well, if you feel up to the task, I won’t stop you. Maybe Peter can give you a hand? He looks bored.”  
Tony pivoted on his heels and grinned like the Cheshire cat. Peter blushed and stuttered out something about being busy, even though he was standing right there behind Emmeline and Tony, looking mightily interested in what they said, and not at all by what he had been working on up until now. To be honest, he hadn’t gotten a lot of work done today, his mind had been elsewhere.   
Emmeline doesn’t take no for an answer and quickly gestures him to come with her and together they stand in front of Spider-Man’s nano suit. It hovered over a magnetic table designed to keep it afloat and she looked on, in fascination.   
“How does it even work?” she asked, to herself mostly, but Peter still answered. Stunned, she turned to him, frowning. “How do you know that?”  
He blushed.  
“I- I’ve met him once. He’s cool. And nano technology is so wild, I had to study his suit.” It was the closest thing to the truth he could tell her. She seemed to accept his explanation, however lousy it was. “Look, if you use this panel…”   
He began to show her how to make alterations to the suit, demonstrating that it would instantly adapt to whatever changes she would make to its design and functions. Emmeline asked more questions than Peter could answer but he tried his best nonetheless. As soon as she understood the basics of how it worked, she began to draft something, talking about adaptability and stealth, and Peter listened to her in utter fascination, barely following her train of thought but enthralled all the same.   
“What do you think? You like it?” Emmeline asked him after showing him her concept.  
Peter had a funny moment of brain freeze where he couldn’t answer. It felt like she was asking him Spider-Man, owner of the suit, instead of Peter Parker, fellow student and engineering amateur.   
“I think it's great. But how will you make it work with the...” He began pointing at something on the 3D model and Emmeline nodded.  
From afar, Tony watched on, sipping on his cup of coffee, looking deeply satisfied and feeling a sense of accomplishment. The two of them worked great together. They probably hadn’t noticed yet that it was pitch-black outside and the whole afternoon had ticked by in a blink.   
The elevator dinged and Pepper walked out, interrupting Tony’s musings. When she saw him smiling fondly, she followed his gaze. He had told her about Peter bringing his crush over, she knew who the girl was.   
“The kid's all grown up now, isn't he?” Tony asked her.  
She laughed, reminding him that Peter had been quite grown up for a while now, squeezing him arm gently and urging him to leave the two alone and come join her and Morgan instead. It didn’t require a lot of convincing.


	9. Chapter 9

Come Thursday, Emmeline walked into the library, reveling in the silent early hours when it was nearly empty except for Peter and her. This was even more true now because the Christmas holidays would start in two days, and most people had already gone back home to avoid the rush at the airports the weekend before Christmas.

She looked forward to these study sessions, they became part of her life in that sneaky way that things you start doing on a regular basis do. Sometimes they didn’t even talk much, but it was nice and comforting to be with Peter. He had a good aura, one that drew her to him. Emmeline wondered if the feeling was reciprocated – she thought he liked her, but it was always hard to tell, he was a bit on the shy side. At least, he never gave her reason to think otherwise. He never cancelled their plans, never said no when she suggested something, he was always on time when they agreed to meet somewhere.

Peter was always at the library before her, waiting at their usual table. Waiting or… sleeping.

With a wicked smile, Emmeline approached, finding Peter fast asleep on his open notebook, snorting lightly. She couldn’t help it, she slammed her books on the table next to him, startling him awake.

“I’m awake! I’m awake!” he exclaimed, shooting up and looking around him, panicked eyes. Emmeline laughed. “Oh, hi, Em. I was just… resting my eyes.”

“Oh, is that what they call it these days?” she asked, sitting down and placing a coffee in front of Peter.

She had stopped at Starbucks on her way here, and she was right to do so. Instead of commenting Peter’s state of dishevelment and obvious exhaustion, she let him take a sip and took a mental note to keep an eye on him.

“’m sorry,” he mumbled, pushing back his hair with a sigh after setting down the cup. “Long days, short nights.”

“I brought the notes you asked for,” she told him, pulling a pile of papers out of her bag. She had printed them for him and changed the layout to make it easier to read. “We can go through them together if you're up to the task,” she said, eyeing him carefully. He looked a total mess.

He rubbed his face without looking at her, eyes focused on the papers already.

“Of course, I'm up to the task, that's why we're here.”

Emmeline furrowed her brows but nodded nonetheless, thinking it was better not to argue. Peter made an admirable effort to stay awake and concentrated on their work, she gave him that, but there was no ignoring the way his head dipped and his eyelids fell a little as though they weighted a ton. But what pushed Emmeline to speak up was the bruise she saw on his arm, peeking out of his sleeve when he reached to grab the book to her right.

“Peter, what's this?” she worried, yanking back the sleeve to uncover the big purple bruise. It covered his entire forearm; it must hurt like a motherfucker. “How did you get this?”

He shook her hand off and pulled the sleeve down before she could take a good look at it, immediately denying that it hurt and stuttering out some lie about falling in the tub. She knew he didn't have a tub. The knot of worry forming at the back of her throat wasn’t new; she had spotted bruises before. She never said anything because Peter didn’t look in pain, and she knew some people just bruised easily – but this one was _bad_.

“We should take a break. You should go back to your room and get some more sleep; we can always meet up this afternoon.”

“No, I made you come here early, I can't ask you to come back tonight. And Tessa will be wide awake and think it's time for her walk.”

That last part sounded like an excuse; they both knew Tessa was a huge couch potato.

“It's not your fault if you're tired, Peter. Anyway, I offered, you didn't have to ask. I can dogsit Tessa this morning. I don't have class until noon.”

It was obvious she was going to win because Peter clearly did not have the energy to argue. He relented after another minute of protesting. The dark circles under his eyes causing lines of worry to appear on Emmeline's forehead. Something was wrong. Something has been wrong for a while but she thought he would sort it out eventually.

“You seriously look like you’re going to pass out. I’m walking with you,” she told him, not accepting no for an answer.

She put his belongings into his backpack and wrapped a hand around his elbow, the way she usually did. She knew he liked it: he always sported this look of pride whenever she walked at his arm. She liked it too.

They walked out of the building arm in arm.

“I feel so dumb for making you come here for nothing,” Peter grumbled, rubbing his eyes to stay awake.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. With Bella still at the vet, there’s not much to do at my place. I’d rather hang out with you and do nothing than stay there all alone,” she confessed, offering him a heartfelt smile.

Peter’s knees almost buckled.

“Why are you so tired though? Is something the matter?”

A flicker of hesitation crossed his eyes and he looked at his feet, but Emmeline’s grip on him didn’t waver and the steadfast support she provided prompted him to open up to her. It was only fair after all, he had been trying to get her to be more honest about her feelings for months, it would be hypocrite of him to not do the same.

“I have nightmares. I wake up in the middle of the night drenched in sweat and can’t fall back asleep.”

Not even Ned knew that. He wanted to be honest about why he had those nightmares, but she didn’t ask, probably having sensed that it was personal. Private people tended to not pry into other people’s lives, and that was a huge relief at the moment.

Truth was, he didn’t really want to talk about the fact that this time of the year reminded him of his uncle Ben. He died shortly before Christmas when Peter was 16. It was always difficult for him, this time of year. It would always be. Coming back late from his missions didn’t help either.

However, Emmeline was smart enough to figure it out on her own. He had told her about his dead parental figures and if she gave it a bit of thought, she would guess why he couldn’t sleep these days.

They finished their walk in amicable silence, and Emmeline took Peter’s keys to open the door. Tessa was still asleep, not even waking up when they walked inside.

“Looks like you won't need my services after all,” Emmeline chuckled, watching Tessa sleep quietly. Bella tended to snore, which was why she didn’t sleep in Emmeline’s bedroom.

When she turned around, Peter was already lying on his bed, arms spread open, sighing in content.

“I’m never getting up again,” he vowed, making her laugh.

Feeling playful, Emmeline dropped her bag and kicked off her shoes before lying down next to him, her head resting on his arm.

“I admit it’s pretty comfy,” she hummed. “Is that how you lure girls into your room, Parker? I’m amazed it works!”

“Shut up!” Peter scoffed and wrapped his arm around her head, trying to cover her eyes. He only succeeded in making her giggle as she wriggled away. He dropped his head on the pillow again, thinking that he liked hearing her laugh. He wanted to make her laugh more. “It only works on the really gullible ones.”

She snorted this time, and he felt her body rumble with laughter.

“Aren’t you going back?” he eventually asked, having stopped bothering her and let his arm rest on the bed again, allowing her to lie on it if she wanted.

“What for? I quite like it here,” she hummed, closing her eyes and making herself at home.

“I don’t know. Study? That’s why we meet up every week,” Peter mumbled, feeling himself slip into unconsciousness.

“Maybe I’m just using it as an excuse to spend time with you.”

Peter’s tired brain barely processed what she said before he dozed off. There were no more words exchanged between them, only peaceful silence, and the delicate touch of her fingertips on his open palm. Peter fought to stay awake just a while longer to enjoy this fleeting moment with her, but his eyelids were too heavy. He drifted off to sleep with Emmeline still lying beside him, wishing she were closer.

*

Emmeline was happy to have Bella back, the reunion was an emotional one. It was now the last weekend before Christmas. Columbia was empty, the shopping streets were buzzing with people. This year she bought a tree. She didn’t really know why, she wasn’t much into celebrating Christmas, but this year she wanted to try something different.

And maybe it did have something to do with Peter, maybe not.

There were only two things tainting her mood. The first one was silly, really. She hadn’t seen Spider-Man in a little while although he hadn’t said anything about not visiting anymore. Then again, perhaps he was busy this time of year, like everyone else. Everyone else except for her, it seemed.

“Do you miss him?” She turned to Bella who lifted her head when she was being talked to. Sometimes Emmeline wondered if she understood what she said. “Yeah, me too.”

The second stain on her lighthearted mood was the customary Christmas speech given by mister mayor himself, live on TV, and which required the presence of the entire family apparently. Emmeline loathed these occasions, where she had to play pretend, act like the perfect little daughter. Her parents even hired a stylist to make her look the part.

Her skin crawled just thinking about it. One of these days she would have to rebel and not come. But not this year – her father was trying to her re-elected, and if she did anything, anything at all, to jeopardize his chances, there would be hell to pay. She still hated this masquerade, and she hated herself for playing along too. There was no solution that satisfied everyone in this scenario.

She was saved from her own thoughts by her phone.

**From Peter: I just finished my part of the assignment. Can I send it to you for proof reading?**

She smiled, already typing out an answer when she received a follow-up message.

**From Peter: and to make sure I didn’t completely bullshit it. The chapter about boundary value problems is still a bit obscure to me.**

**To Peter: Gotcha. I’ll send you my part too so we can both give each other feedback. **

He sent her a gif of Jake Peralta saying ‘noice’ as an answer, and she shook her head, putting down her phone. Emmeline went to her room and opened her laptop to send him her work – it should be ready to send at this point, she had a fairly decent grasp of the subject and had proofread it a couple times already.

She did not want Peter Parker to think her stupid and refused to leave a single silly mistake in her work, and that was the truth. Emmeline liked Peter, more than she anticipated and perhaps more than she would like to. Her life was complicated, and _she_ was complicated, it didn’t feel right to drag him into it.

Bella barked to get her attention then. When her eyes landed on her alarm clock, Emmeline realized it was already half past lunch time for Bella. She stood up to fill Bella’s bowl while her phone buzzed away on her bed.

**From Peter: hey, what do you say we go out later? For coffee or whatever you’d like? **

**From Peter: Do I sound desperate? Be honest. I feel like I do. Please say yes though**

Another moment later, it buzzed once more.

**From Peter: It’s a date btw**

*

“_What do you want me to say_?” Ned asked Peter, sighing through the phone for what felt like the hundredth time since the beginning of their conversation. It wasn’t without reason either, Peter was quite the rambler when he was anxious. “_I know you’ve been friends for a while now and she’s cool, but if she hasn’t answered by now, well… you’ve got your answer dude_.”

No, he refused to accept that explanation. As long as she hasn’t answered, there was still a chance, right?

“Maybe her phone died, and she didn’t see the messages,” Peter argued, full of hope and denial. He had been telling himself just that for three hours now, nearly convincing himself too.

“_Get yourself together, man_!” Ned shouted. “_Have some pride! Chicks don’t want no sissy_!”

Peter held the phone away from his ear and looked at it with a perplexed frown before putting it back to his ear.

“Did I hear correctly? Is this the way you talk now?” Peter asked, frowning to himself, amused though confused.

“_Trying something new_.” Peter could practically hear his friend shrug.

“Stop then. It doesn’t work for you,” Peter told him. Better to be honest, Ned would thank him later.

“_Noted. But I stand by my word, girls like confidence, be confident! You’re freakin’ Spider-Man, the chicks dig it! Girls have posters of you!”_

“Still not working,” Peter groaned, rubbing his face with his free hand. “But I hear you and I’ll try.”

“_I’ll get it right, you’ll see_,” Ned laughed. “_Alright, gotta go, Noobmaster69 is back online. Got ass to kick_.”

They both hung up and Peter slid his phone back into his pocket, shaking his head after this weird conversation.

“Noobmaster69?” he repeated, still a bit confused about… well, everything to be frank.

He just spent the whole afternoon trying insanely hard not to look at his phone and focus on the work she had sent him for review. It was good. Like, it was solid, they won’t have to worry about passing this class, and no thanks to him. It was too late to take back what he had sent her though, and even if it were possible, he wouldn’t know how to make it better.

If he had paid attention in class instead of alternating between sleeping and staring at her in awe, maybe he wouldn’t be in this position? He only had himself to blame. Then again, time spent looking at her wasn’t wasted in his opinion.

The second his phone buzzed in his back pocket, Peter whipped it out so quickly he almost dropped it – and wouldn’t that just be his luck?

**From M: Alright, it’s a date. Nothing comes to mind but I’m not difficult. Meet me at the fountain in Central Park at 6pm? **

In a bout of joy, Peter jumped to his ceiling, scaring Tessa in the process. He stayed upside down while typing his answer and wondered if it was the blood rush that made him dizzy or something else.


	10. Chapter 10

Last time he had such a bad case of nerves, he was on another planet, fighting for humanity and the faith of all living things. Well, that and the time he overslept and nearly missed the final exam of this first semester, almost not passing.

What was it with this girl that made him want to do good all the time? The crushing need to impress her made him lose his cool and overdo everything. He had caught himself considering truly unreasonable plans for tonight’s date as she hadn’t told him she wanted to do anything specific. It ranged from a classic dinner at a high-end restaurant to a full-blown private helicopter tour of the city (made possible by one supportive Tony Stark who was definitely trying to hitch Peter up).

He came twenty minutes early for no other reason than he was pumped to see her, and he was making Tessa nervous with his constant pacing around his room. It didn’t matter, he didn’t mind waiting for her, besides, she was freakishly punctual. One second she was nowhere in sight, the next she stood next to him.

A bit like right now.

“You look a bit lost, have you never been to Central Park at all?” she chuckled from behind him, making Peter spin on his heels to face her.

He opened his mouth to answer, but he got distracted as soon as he saw her. It happened more often than he would care to admit, but luckily for him, he pulled himself together quickly.

“I was looking for you, but I never see you coming,” he told her. “You’re very sneaky for someone who wears heels all the time.”

As if to illustrate what he said, Emmeline clicked her heels together, Dorothy style.

“Is it too late to become a ninja or a spy?” she wondered out loud, already reaching for his arm, gesturing him to go ahead and lead the way.

“A ninja with a master’s in biophysics then. I don’t know, you’d have to ask the guidance counselor what kind of degree you need for that. Do you think it pays well?”

She tilted her head a little, eyes drifting upwards: a sure sign that she was actually, seriously thinking about the answer.

“I don’t know. But if being sneaky was my superpower, I suppose I could send my resume to the Avengers, what do you think? We’d work at the same place then. I’m sure it pays well there at least.”

Peter’s tense laugh didn’t fool her, but she didn’t call him out on it. Mentioning his Stark internship unfailingly turned him into a blubbering mess. It reached the point where she considered he might not actually have an internship there; maybe he was Tony Stark’s secret love child? This theory would have worked if he didn’t confide in her that his parents had both died when he was still a kid.

“You would get so sick of me if you saw me all day long,” Peter finally told her, having recovered his good mood.

They were walking down 5th avenue, linked at the arm, walking slightly closer than they normally would, and Emmeline never really looked away from Peter, despite wearing heels and having to navigate between people. Once again, it made him wonder if she wasn’t secretly a classically trained dancer to whom grace was second nature and who could read his own movements to follow his steps.

This girl truly prompted the most ridiculous wonderings, but it was what made it all so thrilling, so very enticing. She let him closer than anyone else in years, yet he still felt he discovered a new Emmeline every day. And despite all of the mystery surrounding her, he thought he really did know her, who she was deep down – a brilliant, lively young woman who was frustrated not to be able to shine as bright as she wanted to.

Behind every sentence, every glance, he saw the looming shadow of the pressure she endured from her family, it weighted her down like a chain around the ankle. If they were in a movie, he would ask her to elope with him, start a new life elsewhere.

A small, timid part of him wanted that too, but it was a parasite thought. Being Spider-Man fulfilled him in a way nothing else could, and it was a pleasure as much as a duty and a responsibility to save people. The part of him that wished for someone else to have gained those powers was immature and impulsive.

“Is it a challenge?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Peter had already forgotten what he had said, but it came back when she gave him a pointed look.

“Uh, it was not, but feel free to take it as such,” he replied before making a fool of himself and staying silent as she watched on. “Sorry, I’m a bit distracted, I can’t get over the fact you agreed to go out.”

There, better. Not the smoothest approach, but honesty was always preferable to whatever he had been doing up until now. She probably thinks I’m a dimwit at this point.

Emmeline seemed a bit taken aback by his last comment; her smile was replaced by a thin line, lips pinched together.

“Why?”

He could tell she wasn’t playing oblivious and was genuinely surprised that he would think she would refuse.

Hadn’t she been flirting enough with him? Last time she ate lunch with Peter and Ned, the latter had given her a thumbs up when she put a hand a Peter’s arm to get his attention and show him something.

“I just- I thought- Maybe-“ Great. Back to stuttering and blushing. If she hadn’t been holding his arm, he might have fled.

“Let me make this easy for you,” she cut him off before he could further embarrass himself. Emmeline had magical timing. “Whatever nonsense you were about to say, forget it. I like you a lot, and that’s why I’m here. If you hadn’t asked me to go out, I would have asked you, sooner than later.”

“Well that’s hard to believe. But it does help to hear it,” Peter said, unable to hold back the goofy smile on his face, nor the stuttering of his heart and the heat in his cheeks. “It’s a relief actually, I was on the verge of a breakdown when I didn’t get an answer after I sent that risky text. Ned can tell you.”

“I don’t need to ask Ned, I know it’s true, you’re the most anxious person I know, and I know me.”

“What?” Peter’s voice came out as more of a squeal than a question. “You’re not anxious, you’re the most confident person I know!”

“More like I’m the best actress you know then, I have to dye my hair because it started growing white in same places in high school, around the time I had to start thinking about my future.”

“I don’t believe a word of it,” Peter said, shaking his head. “How can-“ he paused. “I can’t imagine you as a teenager, I don’t have enough imagination to picture you as anything else than the woman I see right now.”

Emmeline’s heart did a summersault in her chest, but she tried to not let it show that his words affected her so much. She tightened her grip on his arm and stepped even closer when someone bumped into her shoulder.

“I’ll show you a picture if you prove yourself worthy,” she vowed, her free hand placed over her heart. “I burned all but one, for old time’s sake, and it’s horrendous, but I trust you will not run away after seeing me with bangs and braces.”

“Bangs and braces?” Peter winced, hissing under his breath and pretending to shake off her hand. “The date was nice, I’m gonna go now…”

“Hey!” Emmeline called after him when he tried to power-walk away from her, grabbing him by the shirt to make him stay. “You’re not getting out of this, Parker! I came here for a proper date and I shall have it!”

Peter quit his teasing and returned next to her, assuring her that he was kidding and would make tonight worth her while. Emmeline slipped her hand into his instead of holding his arm. His smile disappeared a little and he gulped down. Hopefully his hands wouldn’t become too clammy.

“Now tell me where we’re going,” she demanded. “Are we still going for coffee?”

“We’re going to this rooftop bar I know. Local bands come and play there, and it has a nice view of the city at night. They serve food too, and I intend to take full advantage of you once you start getting cold and need someone to keep you warm,” Peter shamelessly admitted, having finally recovered some of his self-confidence.

Part of him wondered if he would ever stop being nervous around her, but she had a way of making his worries disappear and putting him at ease. He couldn’t fathom what it was about her, but he was under a spell.

“Who says I won’t take advantage of you and say I’m cold just to snuggle?” She smirked when Peter scoffed a little, rolling his eyes. “Two of us can play this game.”

“You know, come to think of it, you’d do great at Stark Tower, you’d fit in beautifully,” he changed the subject, feeling like the previous one was too much of a slippery slope.

She answered him with the brightest of smiles, strands of her black hair falling out of her bun as she laughed and shook her head slightly.

“And to what do I owe the change of mind?”

“You speak a little bit like him.” Peter looked at his feet than up again. Tony. “You’re both blunt to the point of rashness, not to mention that you both talk like nothing’s out of your reach.”

Emmeline made a funny face that was somewhere between amusement and shame. She knew she tended to consider her own circumstances as a given for everyone, forgetting that some people’s perspectives were limited by money, connections, opportunities.

“I’m working on getting rid of that ugly trait of personality,” she promised. “Though you probably didn’t mean it as a reproach,” she added quickly when Peter opened his mouth to protest. “You speak very highly of him.”

“I’m actually contractually obligated to, so…”

The flicker of doubt in Emmeline’s eyes told him that she believed him, if only for a split second, and it sent him in a fit of laughter.

“Don’t make fun of me!” she chastised him. “It’s not that far-fetched when you consider who he is.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it…”

*

“Alright,” Ned said, slamming a hand on the table he was sitting at to get Peter’s attention. “Enough is enough.”

He startled and his elbow slipped off the table, which then caused his desk chair to roll away and Peter fell heavily on the ground, with about as much grace as a beached whale.

He gave frantic looks about him, finally remembering where he was. Peter shook his head and scrambled back to his feet to save what was left of his dignity if he ever possessed any.

“Earth to Peter Parker,” Ned teased him. “This is ridiculous, you know? Just spit it out so we can actually start to study for our exams.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter shrugged and placed his hands on his hips, somehow achieving the least convincing acting of his life.

“Are you kidding me? I can see you vibrating from where I’m sitting,” Ned accused, throwing him his eraser from across their desks. They sat at the library, on desks facing each other. It was nice to be able to talk here now that it was completely empty. “Tell me how your date went. Give me all the juicy details!”

“It went… it went well.” Peter shrugged again and he cursed himself for doing it. This habit of Emmeline’s really rubbed off on him, and Ned hadn’t missed it.

“Is that all? You’ve been daydreaming for over an hour because your date went well?”

“What else do you want to hear? It’s the truth!” Peter sighed.

He would usually have told Ned right away, but not this time. It felt… a little wrong. Whatever relationship he had with Emmeline, it was too fragile to be exposed to the world just yet, therefore he kept their moments together to himself, like treasured secrets.

“I don’t know, that you had fun, that you took her somewhere classy, that she was so impressed that she invited you to her penthouse and you took the lord’s name in vain all night long?”

“You’ve been watching too much Netflix again, that’s not real life, that’s a TV show. I don’t know what more to tell you other than it went well!” Okay, maybe that was a lie, but he didn’t feel like sharing. 

Ned dropped the smile and squinted his eyes at Peter, who braced himself for the worst.

“Did your shoot your web too soon?” Ned asked in all seriousness, leaning back in his chair and interlacing his fingers on his stomach. “Happens to all of us.”

Peter furrowed his brows, then stared at his best friend with a questioning frown, then made a face of disgust and incomprehension.

“No, oh, my God, no!” he denied, sitting back on his chair and rolling towards the desk again. He put his elbows on the table and buried his face in his open palms. “We just went on a date, nothing more.”

“Oh.” There was a pause that lasted too long for Peter’s taste. “Is that the problem then? Didn’t get the booty?” Now he was using his sympathetic voice. Peter glared at him from between his fingers.

“It’s not about that,” he groaned, finally looking us.

“You can’t even say it,” Ned told him with a self-satisfied smirk. “Just say it, man. It’ll free you.”

“No.”

“Why can’t you say it? It’s simple really, it’s S-E-X. Repeat after me: s-“

“Yes, okay, okay, sex! I’m not doing this just for sex, Ned! And you know that; you know I’ve been waiting for a good occasion to talk to her since day one,” Peter finally shouted in the middle of the library, before remembering it was a public space and lowering his voice, praying that no one had heard that. “I like her. A lot.”

He half expected Ned to make fun of him for his outburst and the inevitable blush that came with it, but his friend became serious.

“Does she like you back?”

The pen right in front of him became the most fascinating object all of a sudden, and his eyes were glued to it, noticing for the first time that it was a Metropolitan Museum pencil – he must have snatched it during a school trip one day, he couldn’t remember. Crazy that he still had it.

Peter didn’t like to speculate on such changing things as were feelings, and he particularly disliked thinking about the possibility of them not being reciprocated. He had been wrong before, and maybe that was why Ned pushed his buttons like that: to make sure he wasn’t running after a mirage once again. Even Spider-Man wasn’t immune to heartbreak.

Emmeline Gerard was a great many things: she was fluky, secretive, opinionated, strong-willed, demanding, brilliant, lively, dazzling, and so very elusive. It would be wrong to assume he knew how she felt. But still, he could hold on to hope. He could hold onto the memory of her lingering gaze, of the tips of her fingers brushing against his hand, of the way she bid him goodnight.

“I guess we’ll find out soon,” Peter simply said, not telling Ned about the kiss she placed on his cheek when they parted, and whose memory had rendered him completely unable to think about anything else.

*

“You should have seen this, Bella,” Emmeline groaned, throwing herself on the couch next to her dog. Bella raised her head to check on her and pawed her a little. “It was so cringy. I’m still cringing about the cringe of it all. When was the last time I felt so shy and awkward during a date?”

Bella placed her head back onto the couch and seemed highly disinterested from the conversation but Emmeline continued nonetheless.

“Have I ever been on a proper date? I can’t even remember. I feel so stupid for letting it get to my head, I acted like a total fool. But then again, so did he.” The sheer thought of that evening brought color to her cheeks, which she promptly covered with her hands, even though there was no one around. “All the cringe,” she muttered to herself, rolling to the side and hiding her face into a cushion.

It had been two days since their date. Emmeline hadn’t had a minute to herself between their assignment and the whole getting ready for her father’s annual speech on Christmas Eve. Her mother had sent several outfit options for her to choose from, right down to the shoes and accessories.

Emmeline had thrown them all on her balcony out of rage. Two hours later, when she had calmed down, she went out to grab them again and take a look at what her dear mother thought appropriate to wear for a public speech that would be broadcasted live on television.

There was too much cream and pearl color for her taste. All of these dresses made her look like a conservative babysitter; no heel exceeded two inches; no neckline was below the collarbone; no hemline higher than her knees.

She threw them out again, to be given to Goodwill. Her parents be damned, she wouldn’t let them dress her up like they did a porcelain doll to appeal to the public eye.

There was something she meant to do but hadn’t worked the courage yet. It would have been much easier to do it before Peter asked her out on a date – however marvelously cringy it had been – but she wasn’t going to back out. She needed the emotional support, she wanted to see the look on her parents’ face, and she wanted to see Peter again.

What was he up to these days? He hadn’t given a single sign of being alive since he left her on her doorstep. She could still see the goofy smile on his face when she had kissed him goodnight, and it made her blush and smile to herself.

“Aaarrgh!” she screamed into her pillow, hiding the embarrassment on her face and startling Bella to the point where she jumped off the couch and walked away from her crazy human.

It all made her dizzy. It made her a little sick too, a good kind of sick, the kind you get when you’re fifteen and your crush looks at you in the hallway. She had never experienced this firsthand, and it was good and refreshing. It made her feel younger and sillier than she was, a bit giddy too.

Peter Parker had her wrapped around his finger, and not only was he oblivious to that, but Emmeline also knew for a fact that he would never use it against her if he ever realized.


	11. Chapter 11

“Are you sure?” Peter asked again, for the tenth time in a row, except with a different intonation.

“I am one hundred percent sure, yes,” Ned told him, for the tenth time in a row, with a slightly different phrasing each time. “If you ask me one more time, so help me, I will make the call myself and tell her embarrassing stories about you.”

Peter scoffed and tried to act confident, fists on his hips in a failed demonstration of self-assurance. 

“What embarrassing stories?” he huffed, pretending he didn’t know exactly what Ned was talking about – there were many to choose from. “I don’t care, I’m not ashamed of anything.” That was the fattest lie he had ever told anyone, by a long stretch.

“Would be a first. But fine, I guess I can tell her about your twenty-first birthday part-“

Peter all but lurched forward to slam his hand over Ned’s mouth, despite being alone in his dorm room with no witness to hear the horrible story of his birthday party. To celebrate him becoming legal, his friends went… a little overboard, to put it nicely, and things quickly escalated from slightly over the top to out of control.

It was a night Peter hoped to forget one day.

Just then, Peter’s phone rang, and he knew who it was without checking the caller ID because he had put a personalized ringtone for four people: Ned, who was currently smiling under Peter’s hand, aunt May, Tony, and Emmeline.

“She’s calling!” Peter exclaimed, suddenly withdrawing his hand from Ned’s mouth. He put it on his head instead and pulled on his hair, feeling his heartbeat pick up pace. “What do I do?”

“You answer! That’s what you usually do when your phone rings!” Ned said, pointing out the obvious for his anxious friend. “Take a deep breath, don’t let her know you’re nervous, everything’s gonna go fine.”

“How do you know that?!” Peter whisper-shouted although there was no reason to keep a low voice.

“You just said the date went fine!” Ned whisper-shouted back, starting to feel Peter’s panic rub off on him. “What are you worried about? She’s calling first, it’s a good sign!”

“After two days of radio silence,” Peter pointed out, his phone still ringing.

“Maybe she was waiting for _you_ to call first!” Ned replied. Peter gave him a blank stare, which then turned into guilt with a dash of embarrassment.

“It could be about our assignment too!” he deflected, stubbornly refusing to consider she was well and truly calling him simply because she wanted to talk to him.

Ned took things into his own hands and snatched Peter’s phone out of his hand to answer the call before he could take it back. Peter made wild hand gestures that were undoubtedly meant to stop Ned from doing just that, but it was too late.

“You’ve reached Peter Parker’s office; how may I help you?” Ned said before Peter could do anything about it expect rake him fingers through his hair to the point of hurting himself a little. He was going to change name, move out of the country, and lay low for the next ten years until Emmeline forgot about this.

“_Ned, is this you_?” she laughed into the phone. Peter could hear it all because Ned put it on speaker so he couldn’t miss a second of it.

He mouthed “I’m going to kill you” to his friend, who merely shrugged.

“No Ned here, only Peter’s secretary,” Ned said into the phone, holding Peter at a distance with his free arm and one leg too.

“_Well, can I talk to your boss then_?” Emmeline asked, playing along.

“Oh, I’m afraid he’s busy at the moment. He’s locked himself in the bathroom an hour ago, I don’t know what’s taking him so long in the shower-“

Peter had put on one of his web shooters and taken his phone back before Ned could finish his sentence.

“I’ll get back at you for this,” he whispered to Ned before attempting to kick him out of his dorm room.

“_Hi? Peter, are you there_?”

“Uh- h-hi Em,” Peter said in the phone, quickly turning off the speaker mode. Peter resumed his hectic arm-moving and mouthed angry things at his friend until finally he shooed Ned out of his dorm room. “What’s up?”

Ned was all too happy to leave now, he felt his mission was accomplished.

“_Nothing much, just checking in_,” she told him, and he could tell something was off by the tone of her voice. “_No, that’s a lie. I wanted to ask you something, sorry_.”

Something was definitely off, he had never heard her sound so nervous or apologetic before, so out of her depth. He felt like he was hearing himself.

“Sure, just ask,” he encouraged her, already knowing he would agree to anything she wanted. He didn’t have the kind of confidence or the will power it took to play hard to get. She got him already.

“_It’s gonna sound weird,” _she warned him_. “I meant to ask you way earlier but kept delaying, it’s a little embarrassing actually_,” she admitted. He could picture her pacing around her pristine white living room, rubbing her neck, maybe biting her nails. No, actually Emmeline Gerard would never bite her nails. “_Also, it’s worse now that we’ve been on a date, like, I genuinely don’t know how to ask that without making it sound stupid, so I’m just going to say it. Are you still there?_”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m all ears,” Peter assured her, sitting down to prevent himself from anxiously walking back and forth in his tiny room and most likely tripping on some discarded clothes at some point.

There was a sigh on the other end of the line, and Peter braced himself, not knowing what to expect. What could she possibly want to ask him that required this much introduction?

“Would you mind accompanying me to this year’s Christmas celebration at the Town Hall?”

His mind went blank, the gears in his brain working as fast as they could to figure out what exactly she was talking about.

“_It’s a horrible idea, I’m sorry for asking_,” Emmeline immediately said when he didn’t answer right away.

“No- no wait, what is this celebration thing? I-I’d love to come with you, I don’t have any plans!” He jumped from his bed, unable to stay still any longer.

He needed to stretch his legs, and also, he face-palmed himself for the way he had said that last part – as if he only hung out with her because he didn’t have anything better to do.

“_Oh, it’s an official thing. There’s a dinner, a gala of sorts, followed by the mayor’s speech on TV. You know, it’s live every year on Christmas Eve_,” she explained. “_It’s a bit awkward to ask that, I know. My entire family will be there, and I don’t want to sound like the crazy girl who introduces a guy to all her relatives after one date, I just- I swear I meant to ask you weeks ago, and I don’t know who else to ask, and I really can’t do this on my own_…”

The desperation and the hope were clear in her voice, which cracked a little towards the end. That she had a difficult relationship with her family was nothing new, and Peter couldn’t say he was surprised that she didn’t want to attend this event alone. He had never thought that being in the public eye was such a pain before becoming the target of paparazzi himself, although it was his alter ego and not himself that got all the attention.

But half of his brain was still stuck on the ‘first date’ part, pointing out that it implied a second date was to be expected. Peter’s eyes settled on Tessa’s sleeping figure in the corner, and he thought about all the reasons why he should say no, stay away from the cameras and the mayor, and what if Emmeline brought Bella? His entire cover might get blown up by her dog. How was he planning on dating her without ever meeting her dog? He hadn’t thought that far ahead.

“_You don’t have to agree, I’ll just find another way to push through this evening. I get it if it’s too weird, or if it’s not your thing. God, it’s not even my thing, and I’ve been going since childhood_-“

“You want me to meet your parents?” Peter cut her off when his brain finally caught up. The tiniest of smirks appeared on his face.

Emmeline frowned a little, only half sure he was pulling her leg.

“_No! I mean yes, I guess, but that’s not the point. Fuck_-“ she swore under her breath, obviously holding the phone away from her mouth for a moment. “_I’m not asking you because I want to introduce you to my parents, I’m asking because I want you there and they just happen to be a part of this event too_.”

“I’m just teasing you, Em,” Peter laughed, picturing the blush on her cheeks quite well.

He didn’t know what was up with that, but she blushed like crazy when he was around, yet he had never seen her get flustered by anything else. Maybe it was another superpower of his. Then again, he wouldn’t be so smug in front of her parents, in front of the mayor of New York city, who was going to glare at him because he was his daughter’s date.

“_So what do you say? You’re allowed to say no, I wouldn’t hold it over your head_. _Trust me, if there was any way for me to get out of this, I would too_.”

He swallowed thickly, glancing at his spider-suit hanging on his open closet door. Suddenly, he recalled what Tony had told him days ago, something about the mayor receiving death threats.

Truth was, Peter hadn’t imagined he would spend his Christmas Eve accompanying the girl he liked to an official event broadcasted live on TV while being on the watch-out for possible threats to her father’s life, but then again, nothing ever went according to plan. May wouldn’t like it, but his mind was made.

“Alright,” he said before he could come up with enough reasons to justify saying no – when really it was simply because he was scared. “Wait, it’s official you said, so there’ll be important people. Does it mean I have to wear a suit? I need to find one. Should I bring something? Wine? I don’t know anything about wine but I can ask around-“

He rambled on about wine for a minute or so, unable to shut his mouth although his brain told him that nothing he could afford would do the trick to seduce Emmeline’s parents if her apartment was any indication of the kind of money they had. Also, should he really be worried about winning over her parents when she so openly talked about her hostile relationship with them?

He only stopped talking when he heard Emmeline laugh.

“What is it?” he asked, smiling to himself.

“_Nothing, I just_…” She didn’t finish the sentence, but he heard her chuckle a bit. “_Never change anything, Peter_.”

*

“How do I look?” Peter asked, smoothing over his shirt while looking at his reflection in the mirror.

Tessa tilted her head then barked.

“Thanks!” He grinned, satisfied though nervous. This brought back awful prom memories with Liz and her father. Hopefully Emmeline’s father wouldn’t turn out to be a villain too, he wasn’t sure he could handle another. “Wish me luck, I’ll need it.”

When he was sure his Spider suit wasn’t sticking out of his clothes, Peter nodded to himself and put on his coat, ready to go. Opening the window, he fastened his web shooters and jumped off his building.

On the other side of the city, Emmeline was sitting on her bed, slipping on her heels and scratching Bella’s belly when she rolled on her back to ask for pats.

“It’s the first time I look forward to attending,” she mused to herself. “I just can’t wait to see mom’s face when she sees me; and when dad sees Peter! I hope their champagne goes down the wrong pipe,” she giggled, fully aware of how petty she sounded.

Truly, they had put her through so much during her childhood, she wished them nothing but a life full of tiny, minor inconveniences that would gradually drive them both crazy, being the control freaks they were. She was done being one of the things they controlled.

Without thinking much about it, she got up and walked into the kitchen to grab a glass of water, her eyes darting towards her balcony.

Spider-Man hadn’t shown up in a while, and she was beginning to think maybe superheroes went on Christmas breaks too. A part of her wished he would just swing by so she could give him her best wishes and thank him again for what he did for her – not just saving her that night in the alley but also pushing her to talk to Peter.

She still hadn’t mentioned her aggression, and maybe she never would, but it had done her the greatest good to open up to someone. To someone she liked a lot.

Just then, the doorbell rang, fortunately for her – because she didn’t want to venture on this path at the moment. Emmeline would never admit to having ran to the door, but she did. It swung open to reveal a very pampered Peter Parker that she had never seen before but what glad to meet.

“My, my, if I knew you cleaned up this good, I would have told you to wear a suit after all,” she said as a way of greeting, crossing her arms and letting her eyes scan him from head to toe to take it all in.

She had told him to drop the tux and suit and rather go for a clean, elegant shirt with jeans and dress shoes. He looked fantastic, and she didn’t spare the compliments despite the blatant pink of his cheeks and the way he avoided her eyes. Emmeline smiled larger and chuckled, gently smoothing over a wrinkle on his collar.

“Stop it,” he chuckled, stepping aside to let her through when Emmeline grabbed her coat and bag and closed the door behind them, ready to join that horrid party they would attend. “How can you say that about me when you- you look-“

He gestured vaguely at her while mouthing a ‘wow’ but didn’t finish his sentence, having no adequate word to describe her. She had outdone herself both for him and to stick it to her parents. They couldn’t act like she was twelve and New York’s sweetheart anymore. Emmeline had grown into a fine woman and she wanted them to finally acknowledge it. She wanted more people to start looking at her and see her, instead of her parents’ daughter.

Pastel and crème colors had been banned from her wardrobe. She wore a stunning knee-length wiggle dress whose black material caught the light and shimmered slightly. It was plain and elegant and she looked graceful and feminine and Peter’s jaw was hanging slightly open in a totally _un_graceful manner until she shrugged on her coat, which made him came back to his senses.

“You’re right on time, as always,” she congratulated him. “I hope your aunt isn’t too mad at me for stealing you on Christmas Eve.” Emmeline winced a little but Peter brushed off her worries.

Peter blinked a couple times, thinking of the way May had first been upset and argued about the sudden plans, but quickly changed her attitude when he told her it was for a girl – everyone around him seemed desperate to hitch him up.

“She’s fine with me going out,” he said with a shrug.

“You’re a terrible liar.” She laughed. “It’s a quality. Now, off we go.”

“Will you be able to walk in these shoes?” he asked, worried already when he saw the vertiginous heels.

“We’re not walking, silly.” She swatted him with her purse. “A car is waiting for us outside. Dad’s way of making sure I don’t arrive in metro and ridicule him.”

“Would you do it if given the change though?”

“Without a second thought,” she told him, beaming at him as she exited the elevator. The employees all nodded at her on their way out, and Peter felt like he was walking with a celebrity on his arm.

“Anything I should know before we go into the shark tank?” Peter asked her, eyeing suspiciously the man who held the car door open for Emmeline and gave her a sweet little smile.

“Don’t look my mother in the eye and be ready to shake a lot of hands.” She placed a hand on his thigh when they were sitting, and the door was closed. There was a tainted glass window between them and the chauffeur to guarantee privacy. 

He felt the engine start and the car pull into traffic.

“Yeah, I think I can handle that,” he said, puffing out his chest to make her smile when he felt the tension in her hand. She gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Hey, relax,” Peter tried to reassure her.

She had been right in saying she was a good actress. Emmeline looked impeccable, confident and ready to conquer the world, but if you took so much as a second to really look at her, you could see the cracks in her façade.

It came naturally to take her hand in his and bring it up to his lips and kiss her knuckles. She stared with wide eyes, lips slightly parted in astonishment.

“Everything will be fine. I’ll stay by your side all night.”


	12. Chapter 12

Peter had done outstandingly well given the circumstances – Emmeline had thrown him out of his comfort zone by asking him to accompany her to this reception, but he was exceeding all expectations if she had had any.

She wasn't doing as well as him. She was very tense, to the point of physical pain and an actual stomachache. There was so many people, so many faces among the crowd; people she was supposed to know and meant to greet and exchange a few banalities with. They were all anonymous faces to her, nobody she actually knew and gave a fuck about.

In all honesty, she was avoiding her parents, and they had been doing fine so far. The first two hours of this charade had been busy but relatively uneventful and smooth. At some point, Emmeline spun on her heels and stepped a bit closer to Peter, almost hiding her face in his neck.

"My mother is standing over there, by the giant flower arrangement, glaring at me," she explained when Peter raised an eyebrow. "Don't look!"

He huffed a curse word when she elbowed him a bit too harshly but that was it; he looked at her instead.

"You're not going to talk to her?"

"Not if I can help it," she admitted without any shame. "The later the confrontation, the better. Trust me on that."

"I wouldn't presume to know any better," he chuckled, taking her hand and leading her away, hopefully out of her mother's viewing field. "Want a glass?"

Peter gestured to a waiter waltzing by with a tray of champagne flutes.

"No." Emmeline crossed her hands over her stomach, still so tense she would feel her abs. "Don't let me get my hands on alcohol tonight, please. If I start drinking, I won't stop."

"My God, Em, you weren't joking when you said that you hated it here," he said, finally realizing just how much she dreaded such events, and how scared she was of her parents. "You're shaking," he noticed when he took her hand in his: an attempt to ease her nerves.

She quickly withdrew her hand.

"I know, I'm sorry. I just can't stand this place, just being here, having to shake hands and smile at people whose face I will forget within the next minutes, it's making me sick." Her averted her gaze from him, looking over her shoulder as if checking if her mother hadn't followed them. "I dragged you into this when instead you could be home, celebrating Christmas with your aunt."

"I'm quite happy where I am," he assured her, putting his hands into his pockets. "Here, come." He once again led her away from where they stood and towards the bar this time, asking for a glass of water for her, and ordering a beer for himself.

He handed her the drink and Emmeline wrapped two hands around it, as if she was afraid to drop it.

"I'm in a fancy place, at a fancy reception, about to eat a fancy dinner, with the girl I fancy," Peter listed with a teasing smile on his face, watching the way Emmeline's lips trembled slightly when she repressed laughter. "I've been in worse situations, _trust me on this_." The last time he had seen her so shaken up was…

"I'm sure you have. Still…" she trailed off, her eyes detailing him as she thought about her next words. "This isn't what I would have wanted for our second date."

"Oh, this is a date? I was under this impression that you hired me as a personal security detail."

"Hiring implies some kind of payment, which I did not offer," she countered, taking a sip of her water and stepping closer to him.

"I was hoping to get a date actually, but since we're in the middle of one, I'll have to find something else," he thought out loud, enjoying seeing her smile again, watching the way her nose scrunched up a little and her eyes squinted slightly when she laughed.

"You have a few hours ahead of yourself to decide," she informed him. "Choose wisely."

Before Peter could even think about an answer, the music suddenly stopped, and someone demanded attention from the crowd by tapping on a glass – something that Peter thought only happened in movies.

"Dinner," Emmeline said, gulping down and emptying her glass of water as if it were a whiskey on the rocks. "It's showtime. We'll be sitting at the big table, no more hiding from my parents from now on."

"They won't make a scene here, will they? No need to making yourself sick over this dinner," Peter tried to reason her.

"You're right. I'm just a ball of nerves, but if I came here to act like a scaredy-cat, I might as well have put on one of those prudish dresses my mother sent me to pick from."

"Wait, what? That's insane! You're not twelve!" Peter exclaimed just as they were both swept into the general crowd movement, following the other guests into the adjacent room to find their seats.

Emmeline had explained that every year, her parents left an empty seat next to hers in case she wanted to bring a plus one, but she knew it was a pretext. She was a laughingstock to them. Seeing her sitting alone next to an empty chair: that's what got them off. He had had his doubts about this at first, but when he saw her tremble at the sheer thought of sharing a dinner table with her parents, he reconsidered.

He was more than happy to fill this chair; he was more than happy to stand beside her when she held up her mother's stern gaze as they sat down. Peter had seen the venomous glare she directed at their joined hands. Emmeline had simply taken his hand to lead him to their table without losing him in the crowd, but he would gladly hold her hand all night long if it could help make a rebellious statement.

It wasn't until dessert that things started to go downhill. People were beginning to stand up and mingle to talk with people sitting at other tables too, minds fogged with champagne. Emmeline had bolted from her chair as soon as her mother stood up, and she had dragged Peter with her towards the terrace to get some fresh air and escape from her family.

"You're going to have to talk to them as some point, you know?" Peter told her, wincing a little when he saw her look over her shoulder.

"Will I though?"

He gave her a stern look.

"You're right." Her shoulders slumped. "I have to apologize to you in advance for everything they'll say."

"What?" Peter laughed but quickly stopped when he realized Emmeline didn't join in. "What could they possibly say to me?"

"Oh you'll see. Everyone here is a snake."

She trembled and Peter watched her warm breath create a puff in the close air. Before he could find something to say, he felt the hairs on his arm stand on end and the window to the terrace opened and closed again.

"Emmy, I thought it was you!" A man's voice exclaimed, and they turned around to watch a young man strut towards them, hands in the pockets of his long coat. "Almost didn't recognize you in that dress! I'm not used to seeing in dressed like a woman," he sniggered, his voice full of thinly veiled contempt.

If the twist of Emmeline's lips was any indication at all, she did not like being called 'Emmy', or being sexualized simply for wearing a dress that didn't have a claudine collar, and she certainly did not like this dude. Peter stepped slightly to the left to stand between them, as if to shield her from his venomous words.

"Dexter," she hissed as a way of greeting. "What are you doing here? I thought you were studying abroad."

Peter felt her step closer to him, but she stayed back. It wasn't her usual behavior – staying back, in retreat. Emmeline was more of a conqueror type of girl, she spoke with her chin up.

"Been keeping tabs on me, have you?" Dexter said, a boyish grin plastered on his face. He couldn't be more antipathic to Peter. "I'm back for the holidays, my mother wouldn't have it any other way. You know how mothers are."

So far he hadn't shown any signs of seeing Peter at all, he only talked to Emmeline as if he wasn't there at all. She didn't give him to curtesy of answering to that stinging remark. He no doubt knew about Emmeline's bumpy relationship with her mother, and he just pushed a sensitive button for funsies.

"Nevermind," Dexter said, not dropping the Colgate smile. "So, what did you bring us here?" he asked, finally deigning to set eyes on Peter, although it must have stung according to the disdainful frown on his face.

Peter smiled, glad that he didn't appeal to that dude. He wouldn't want to be liked by someone that unpleasant. Dexter looked Peter down, stopping at every single detail and lifting an eyebrow whenever – Peter thought – he saw something he didn't like. Which must have been everything.

"If you needed company, you could have called me." _Instead of bringing an outsider_, was the subtext.

Emmeline placed a hand on Peter's arm to stop him from lurching forward when she felt him tense up. Dexter was a vile human being and she would pay good money to watch him finally get beat up after running his mouth. The way he talked about Peter, not even asking for his name or greeting him properly… he treated him like he was her pet.

Maybe she should have brought Bella along tonight, surely she wouldn't be as easily pacified as Peter. Her entire face morphed into an expression of profound disdain and she sneered at him when she opened her mouth again.

"You're still as much of an ass as I remember," Emmeline spat at Dexter, stepping out from Peter's shadow. "The sheer thought of having ever dated you makes me when to retch, and I would rather kiss a toad than even share a dinner with you."

"Oh, wow!" Dexter held his hands up in surrender, still grinning. "No need to go hysterical on me. It's your loss, I'm just offering."

"She's not interested, you can go now," Peter spoke up, at last gaining the dude's attention. He made a funny face, as if he had thought he couldn't talk at all.

"It speaks!" he commented. Emmeline scoffed and turned around, not standing the sight of him anymore. "Does it bite too, or just bark?"

This time, she didn't stop Peter from punching him in the cheekbone, nor did she have any desire to try.

000

"You dated that douchebag?" Peter asked, stretching his fingers. It didn't hurt but Emmeline had been concerned and he needed to at least pretend to be a little sore, shaking his hand for good measure.

"And I wake up everyday regretting it," Em sighed, shaking her head. "You shouldn't have punched him."

Her smile said the opposite.

"He clearly needed some sense knocked into him, I did us all a favor. Not to mention that how deeply satisfying it felt."

The smile became wider, she even let out the smallest of giggle and looked away, rubbing her forehead and trying to suppress the smile.

"I can imagine. I wish I'd done it a long time ago. That jackass really had it coming."

The way she said the last part made his Spider-sense tingle.

"I sense a story behind that," he told her. They had been standing in a hallway for about ten minutes now, postponing the moment they would have to go back to their table. "Should I ask?"

Something flickered behind Emmeline's eyes and Peter knew he guessed right.

"It's not a nice story," she told him just before he went back on his question and told her to forget it. "He's always been a self-entitled asshole, but at some point in my life I found that attractive and even went along with it. He used to wander around shadier parts of the city for the thrill of it, and one day it went south."

"How far south?" Peter couldn't help but ask.

Peter was in a delicate position regarding Emmeline, because she did him a favor by not prying in his life whenever he acted strange or sported unexplained bruises that she spotted. He had seen her frown to herself on several occasions. Therefore, it was all the more difficult for him to ask personal questions.

He wanted to repay her the gracious discretion by not putting his nose in her business. But he also wanted to be all up in her business.

"Arctic pole," she laughed humorlessly. "Some nutter that _really_ didn't want my father to win the elections had followed us, and Dexter made a run for it as soon as things became sticky. Let's just say he's at least part of the reason why I have a guard dog trained to protect me from dangerous men."

"I should have broken his nose," Peter hissed between his teeth, jaw clenched. "Your father didn't do anything about it? I mean, I know you have a difficult relationship but he must have-"

"He couldn't. Dexter's going to inherit an empire, own half the buildings in the Upper East Side along with a hefty amount of money one day. The last thing he wanted was a warfare with his family. The incident was swept under the rug and he got me a puppy to make me feel better."

Every last one of Peter's instinct pushed him to act on what she said, despite knowing it happened years ago. He wanted to get this Dexter locked up for sheer cowardice, he wanted to find the man that assaulted Emmeline when he wasn't around to protect her and hang him at a lamppost by the ankles with his web, and he wanted to meet her father and tell him what he thought of his parenting methods.

"The more you tell me about your life and family, the less I understand why you still play their game," Peter confessed, shaking his head and looking at his feet.

Emmeline gave him a little crooked smile and blinked back tears, pulling herself together. They had been standing outside these doors for way too long already, it was time to go back and face her parents, and everybody else in that room.

"It's not a choice, Peter. If I don't play the game, I lose. Remember I wasn't born into this world, I was brought into it. I look like I'm a part of this, I wear a dress worth more than everything in your dorm to blend in the crowd, but I'll always be an outsider."

There was so much defeat in her tone, so much pain.

Before the sadness took over, Emmeline turned away from Peter to stare at the door, electing to talk about a lighter topic.

"It's all in the past now, I don't want to talk about it. I'm telling you because I trust you, that's all," she told Peter, taking his arm to get ready to walk in.

"But-" Peter barely had a chance to open his mouth before she cut him off.

"What if Dexter told someone? Like I said, his father owns half of Manhattan, he can make your life very difficult if he wants to," Emmeline asked, proud to notice her voice was even and didn't give away her state of distress. It didn't take a genius to see what she was trying to do and Peter, while being curious, didn't lack delicacy to the point of forcing her hand in that matter.

He shrugged, confident that Dexter told no one.

"And admit to having been sucker punched by your toy boy? I'm sure he didn't."

000

Peter distinctly remembered everything that happened after dessert, like a slow-motion segment of a movie, filled with unnecessary details that he wouldn't notice otherwise. Everything from the moment he felt all the hairs on his body stand on end, to the moment he came back to his room at May's, through the window of course.

His first instinct when his Spider sense tingled was to jump to his feet, suddenly reminded of what Tony told him about someone sending death threats to the mayor, eyes alert and scanning the room in search of danger.

"Oh, dear me," someone exclaimed behind him and when he turned around there was a middle-aged woman way too thin for her own good – her pearl necklace seemed too heavy for her neck. He didn't know why he noticed that of all things, but he did. Then he realized that her piercing eyes were darted on him, accusingly. Her hand rested flat on her chest, implying that he had scared her. "Are you going somewhere, young man?"

Peter winced and when he looked at Emmeline, who hurried to finish her glass, he saw her wince too. If this woman wasn't her mother, Peter vowed to shave his head the next day.

"N-no," Peter quickly stuttered out, focusing back on the dignified woman. Not a hair stood out of place. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am," he added.

When she held out her hand, Peter's brain froze for a moment too long, then he came back to his senses and took it in his, placing a kiss on her bejeweled fingers. That was what she wanted him to do, right? Her pleased smile indicated that he had done the right thing, but Emmeline's eyeroll was what sealed the deal. Of course, she would mock this old-fashioned greeting.

"Emmeline, why don't you make the introductions? I feel as though you've been avoiding me all night. What did this boy do to have you hide him from me?"

The fakest smile she could muster was slapped on her face, making Peter nearly snort. He bit his cheeks to keep a collected face.

"Mother," she said with a purposefully childish voice. "Meet Peter Parker. Peter, my mother, Sybil Gerard."

She didn't specify who he was, giving his name was already more than she would have liked to tell her family. With a name, they could do research. She didn't say they were at university together, she didn't say whether they were friends or a couple – not that she knew what they were at this point, she just didn't want to share it.

"Well?" Sybil Gerard insisted, her smile as stiff as Emmeline's. Now he could see the family resemblance. "Is that it? Don't I get more details? Or are you trying to withhold information from me?"

"No, it's my private life," Emmeline deadpanned, still smiling. "When will the speech start? This dinner has lasted longer than your last facelift already."

Peter half expected the entire room to hush over and turn towards them, ogling the two women to see who would strike first after Emmeline's blatant provocation. Sybil Gerard, however, had dealt with her daughter's venomous remarks for a long time and she barely flinched, even letting out a faint laugh to show that Em's pique did not hit as close to home as she had hoped.

With baffled excitement, Peter watched on, not knowing what to say – if she should say anything at all.

"Your father still has a few people to greet and we're waiting for the TV crew to give us the green light, but rest assured you will be the first to know when we're ready. I dare hope you will make an effort and behave with poise, don't forget it's live TV," her mother snapped, having abandoned the sweet façade she put on for appearances' sake in presence of Peter. "Your smile needs practice. You may have discarded all the dresses I sent you, but I won't suffer another insult tonight, you have disappointed me enough already."

Peter had to blink a couple times to get rid of the image of a snake that his mind conjured when Sybil spoke. She spat more venom than a cobra. A shiver ran down his spine and Emmeline's visibly gulped but stayed put and nodded without another word.

"And try to be a little more pleasant, the guests are wondering what's wrong with you."

She didn't wait for her daughter to answer and simply left after that last pique. Emmeline exhaled and hiccupped to catch her breath as if she had been holding it during the last minute of this dreadful conversation.

"That was intense," Peter commented, if only to break the silence. "She's… charming."

He brought his lips in a thin line and Emmeline looked up from her napkin, the corner of her mouth wavering slightly.

"She's a soul-sucking cold-hearted bitch, is what she is," she corrected him, and they both began to laugh, shaking off the tension and awkwardness that Madam Gerard left in her wake.

"That's one way of putting it I suppose." He took her hand under the table, hidden by the long tablecloth. "She's also wrong. You look beautiful, and your smile is perfect as it is, no practice needed."

"You don't have to make me feel better, Peter, I'm used to it. It doesn't get to me anymore." It did, they were both aware. "I'm a big girl."

"Shut up and accept the compliment," Peter teased her, drawing another laugh from her. "You know, I'm glad I came today. This is the most thrilling Christmas dinner I've had in years! It's exciting! Like I'm on a TV show."

"A high society drama with its secret love affairs and corrupt politicians, then," she hummed, scanning the crowd to look at everyone's smiling faces. Everybody was so shiny, so spotless. The light caught on every diamond earring, silver ring and pearl necklace. "Not my kind of TV show."

"What kind of TV show are you then?"

"Well…" She began to fold her napkin origami-style as she thought about it. "I'd like to think I'm a high fantasy show, that I'm on a path towards self-discovery and accomplishment, forming unbreakable bonds with the people around me in the process, and embracing who I am, but in reality I'm more like… Gossip Girl, or Riverdale, or whatever."

"Teenage drama?"

"Yeah, exactly. Any TV show where the protagonists look older and fitter than they ought to be. There needs to be at least one shirtless scene per episode, and half the soundtrack is by the Arctic Monkeys."

A laugh fell from Peter's lips and he frowned a little, perplexed.

"Oddly specific, yet accurate, somehow," he said, soon joined by Emmeline in his laughter. One has to laugh in this kind of situation, or it'll become overwhelming. "Are you ready for the climax of the episode then? Because your mother is coming this way again."

"Oh no." Emmeline sighed under her breath. "I'm so sorry you have to endure this with me. I'd have left you to your aunt if I were less of an egoist."

"Are you kidding? This is better than a Broadway show. I think I can see the flowers waning in your mother's wake."

Emmeline punched him in the arm and Peter pretended to be hurt, chuckling quietly. Both of them dropped their grin as soon as Em's ice queen mother reached their table, casting a cold over them.


	13. Chapter 13

There was a big stage, with spotlights and thousands of people standing there, watching on. The TV crews of every big channel had their cameras turned towards the silhouette of the mayor, waving at the cheering crowd who had braved the cold to be a part of this.

Peter’s eyes were darted on Emmeline, who stood straight as an ‘i’ between her parents, a stiff smile plastered on her face – he could only imagine how much her cheek muscles hurt. At first, she had stood a little behind and to the left of her mother, but she had been dragged to the forefront, looking panicked. Peter could tell it wasn’t her usual place, but her mother’s way of ensuring that she would be on her best behavior after the stunts she already pulled tonight. He was sure that his mere presence here was an insult to half to other guests, yet he didn’t mind. 

Snow began to fall but nobody seemed to care, if anything, it added to the general vibe. Why did no one but him see the blatant discomfort of the young girl on stage? Why did no one see what he saw? He’d have liked to shoot out a web and take her away, he’d have liked to be brave and join her on stage even if it would cause the ire of mister mayor.

But he didn’t. And no one else saw. Everybody listened to the speech, rubbing their hands together for warmth or holding their cup of mulled wine, eyes shining with the reflection of a thousand fairy lights hanging from streetlamp to streetlamp. No one saw, and neither did Peter, who was so focused on Emmeline that he missed it.

He missed the first gunshot.

Suddenly pulled out of his reverie, he sent panicked looks all around, watching the crowd kneel and people scramble around to try and get out of the sea of people.

Peter was standing on the left side of the stage, by the stairs leading “backstage”. He had promised Emmeline that he would stay there and wait for her; he saw her fall on her knees, protecting her head and crawling back to get out of shooting range but she didn’t know where the shooter was, nor did Peter, because he could hardly tear his gaze away from her. Everything was still in slow motion.

Gunshots still echoed in the square, sending the crowd into hysterics, coming from everywhere. There must be more than one shooter.

It wasn’t the first time in his life that he had to choose between being Peter Parker and Spider-Man. Peter Parker was who Emmeline wanted; she was looking for him, searching his eyes but also too scared to move from her little hiding spot behind the lectern. Spider-Man was who she needed, what everybody present needed.

When Emmeline finally gathered her courage and decided to make a run for it to try and join Peter and get out of here, she found no one standing by the stairs leading off stage. She barely had the time to process that before feeling herself being yanked backwards and hitting the lectern again, now unable to move. What…?

“You stay here, princess,” a familiar voice ordered her.

Emmeline twisted her neck to look upwards and found none other than Spider-Man perched on top of the lectern. He had webbed her down so she wouldn’t move. Another gun shot and this time, shards of wood from the lectern were blown off, forcing Emmeline to whip her head around to avoid them. Her right cheek flamed up and she didn’t dare look up to check on the super hero.

The noise around her didn’t help either, the general panic created a mob mentality and everyone started freaking out beyond all sense and measure, probably making things a thousand times worse for the police and Spider-Man. Gunshots everywhere, screams, cries and the low rumble of footsteps from people running across the stage and right past her.

Breathing was difficult, Emmeline folded her legs under her, adopting the fetal position to avoid being ran over. She buried her head in her knees and pressed her eyes shut, willing the situation to deescalate quickly, praying that wherever Peter was, he was safe.

Where were her parents? She dared open her eyes again but saw no one lingering on the stage, and she couldn’t see what was happening around her because she was still webbed to the back of the lectern. They left her. She shouldn’t have been surprised but she was shocked still. They left her.

Everybody had left her, except Spider-Man, who always seemed to be around when she was in trouble.

Once again, Emmeline was yanked away from her place of safety and she found herself in the airs, holding tightly onto the body against hers, eyes still shut.

“Here you go, you’re on the ground, you can let go now,” Spider-Man told her, gently removing her arms from around him. “Stay behind the police line.”

“Wait!” Emmeline shouted after him before he flew off again, slipping right past the line of policemen to followed Spider-Man and grab his arm. “I was here with someone. I need to find him!”

“You need to stay safe and out of the way,” he replied, obviously annoyed that she would put herself in danger and not stay with the rest of the people. “You need to go back there, I have a job to do.”

“I’m not leaving without him!” she insisted, stubbornly following after him. “I know him, he wouldn’t have left me, he must still be in the-“

“I said go back, Emmeline!” Spider-Man shouted. He was growing frustrated: Emmeline refused to obey and go to safety and he still had shooters to deal with. Bullets still flew around, there were still people lying on the ground, covering their ears and closing their eyes as if that was going to dissuade the shooters from killing them. “I’m serious!”

“And I’m-“ She didn’t get to finish her sentence. Spider-Man’s body collided with hers and she barley managed to keep them upright, helping him on his feet and feeling something sticky against her hand.

“Fuck,” he swore. Time was up. “He’s fine, don’t worry about your friend.” She frowned a little, confused. There was something off in the way he said it. “He was swept away with the crowd and evacuated by the police.”

“But-“ This didn’t make any sense. “You- you’re hurt,” she now noticed, looking down at her hand covered in blood.

“It’s nothing.”

He was always flying off towards danger again, leaving Emmeline close enough to the police line to go back by herself.

Of course, expecting her to do as she was told was wishful thinking. She followed right after him. She couldn’t just let him go off when he had taken a bullet God knows where; and she didn’t believe for a second that Peter had been swept away with the crowd. He wouldn’t leave her. He would have given her a sign of life by now.

“Peter!” she shouted in desperation, pushing people and being pushed around by people who ran away like headless chicken, tripping on their own feet and bumping into inanimate objects in their rush to escape the square. “Peter! Peter are you-“

She was cut off when she something flew past her at an astounding speed, blowing her hair right out of her updo. She recognized it immediately, noting the red and gold shine of Iron Man’s armor and feeling a wave of overwhelming relief wash over her. It didn’t last long.

Something next to her blew up again, sending more shards of wood into her. This time she could move and shielded her face with her arm, but the blast threw her off balance and she landed on the ground a few feet away, almost immediately getting kicked in the side by someone who was no doubt running for their life.

This couldn’t be happening. Where were her parents? Where was Peter? Oh God, if anything happened to him…

The now familiar sensation of vertigo that came with being lifted into the air signaled her that Spider-Man had once again came to her rescue.

“Emmeline, you can’t stay here,” he told her when he brought her back behind the line of policemen. “Peter is safe, trust me. Now you stop making my life more difficult than it is, and stay here. Gotta go,” Spider-Man told her before joining the effort and helping Iron Man.

She couldn’t see what was happening from where she stood now; policemen kept pushing her backwards, forcing her to step back and away from the flying bullets. She resisted at first, compelled to make sure Spider-Man was okay. He was still bleeding; she knew it from the stain of blood on her coat.

However, she was once again pulled backwards by someone, and it was starting to irritate her that people felt entitled to push and pull and shove her around like a ragdoll.

“What are you doing, you retard?!” the sharp voice of Dexter pestered her. He didn’t bother to be gentle and simply yanked her towards him and out of the police’s way. Emmeline shook him off of her and scowled at him. “Lost your little boyfriend?” he sniggered, not missing an opportunity to be an ass, even in the middle of a shooting. “That delinquent shattered my jaw! What kind of lowlife are you hanging out with? Wasn’t it enough to get chased down by some psycho years ago? You want more?”

“Shattered?” she scoffed, letting out a snort. “Yeah, right. As if.”

She would know if Peter had punched him this hard, right? His hand would have hurt a lot more, and who knew how much strength you needed to put in a punch to shatter a jaw on purpose?

“You don’t believe me? You think he’s your prince charming, is that it?” he asked, already reaching out to her again. “Then why are you alone?”

“Get away from me, you disgusting piece of shit! You abandoned me! Peter would never do that!”_ I hope I’m right_. “We got separated. Now step back, and never, ever touch me again or I swear to God, I will file a restraining order against you.”

Dexter, smirk still twisting his lips in a sick grin, raised both hands in surrender, taking a couple steps back.

“Whatever, bitch. You were a lousy fuck anyway.” As if to give leverage to his statement, he flipped her off one last time before walking away to join his gang of rich kids friends.

She waited until he was out of her sight to start looking for Peter but she quickly understood that it was a fool’s errand. This was New York City, on the busiest day of the year, at a late night political rally disguised as a Christmas celebration. It was too dark to distinguish faces in the crowd, people were running around, and away from the shooting. The passersby were curious and gathered outside the safety perimeter, policemen pushed people back, gunshots were still being heard and blasts of light came from the other side of the line of trees, a clear evidence that the fight was still going strong.

Emmeline would never find Peter and she was feeling herself getting cold, freezing to the bone in fact. The aftershock was hitting her. Staying here wouldn’t do any good. In a last attempt to reach Peter, she called his number but fell on his voicemail.

“Damn you, Parker,” she cursed, putting away her phone. She didn’t mean it, but she was out of options and it frustrated her. She didn’t want to leave him here if he was still around, but what else was she supposed to do.

“Miss?” someone said from behind her, tapping on her shoulder to get her attention. It was a paramedic. “Please follow me, your cheek needs to the tended to.”

She had forgotten about the stinging pain in the side of her face, but as soon as the man mentioned it, came the sharp reminder. She was no doubt riddled with shards. He guided her out of the crowd and towards the ambulance where other people were being patched up and she surrendered herself to the medics, determined to go home after that, and try to contact Peter again.

*

The second she closed the door to her apartment behind her, Emmeline crumpled to the floor, bursting into tears and turning into a sniffling mess, which in turn quickly attracted Bella’s attention and concern. The young pit nuzzled Emmeline’s arm until she managed to push her head under her arm to lick the girl’s face.

She was used to having full on conversations with her dog, but not tonight. Emmeline couldn’t talk tonight, she couldn’t stop sniveling and crying, and so she let Bella try to console her the only way she knew how to: by licking the sadness out of her.

An age passed before she found the strength to stand up and go to her room on wobbly legs, followed closely by Bella who seemed rather determined not to leave her side. Emmeline shivered from the close, her teeth rattling, her hands shaking. It was warm in her apartment, the thermostat was set on the usual temperature, she shouldn’t be cold.

She peeled off all the layers of clothes, feeling nasty, absolutely disgusting. She shed her dress and threw it in a corner as if the thing reeked, as if she didn’t love it when she chose it, hoping that Peter would like it too. Her heels met the same fate, as well as everything else she wore. Instead of her usual ostentatious and elegant clothes, Emmeline dug out a pair of mom jeans and a fleece lines sweater. She put on two pairs of socks too.

Peter still didn’t pick up, his phone didn’t even ring, she got straight to his voicemail every time she called. She called Ned, out of desperation, begging him to give her Peter’s off campus address.

“_Sure, why’d you need it for_?” he asked, not having heard of the shooting yet. Emmeline didn’t have the heart to tell him now and ruin his holidays or alarm him when she didn’t even know if Peter was alright or not.

“I just need to see him and he won’t pick up.” It wasn’t a lie, it was just a slight understatement of the truth. “I’m guessing he’s not spending Christmas alone in his dorm.”

“_Oh no, he usually doesn’t stay at all when he doesn’t have class. He only stayed for you_,” Ned blurted out, only to realize he maybe shouldn’t have disclosed that information. “_I mean- for your project. He didn’t want to have to go back and forth between Queens and-_“

“I didn’t know…” Emmeline breathed out, shaking her head to herself. “I get it though. Don’t worry, I won’t tell him you spilled the beans.”

A sigh of relief answered her.

“_Cool. Cool, cool, cool_.”

Bella went absolutely insane without any warning, and Emmeline nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard a knock on her window, almost causing her a heart attack.

“I have to go Ned,” she told him.

“_I’ll text you the address. Merry Christmas, Em_!”

She only just managed to return the courtesy and ended the phone call. When she looked at her screen, she saw that it was past midnight already. She had stepped onto that stage over two hours ago, though it felt like longer.

Bella barked like the devil was standing outside her window, but when she flipped on the balcony lamp, she saw Spider-Man. Her knees gave in but she caught herself before hitting the floor. Even with his mask on, she could see the worry on his face. Pulling herself together, Emmeline opened the sliding window.

“What the hell was that, Em?” he immediately began to scream, holding his arms open in incomprehension. “You can’t go around running into the face of danger like it’s nothing! Fuck that! You couldn’t have gotten killed, you know that?! I can’t look after you all the time, as much as I’d like to be able to,” he raged on, his expression of anger visible through his mask.

Emmeline just stood there, shaking slightly.

“It was irresponsible and thoughtless and stupid! It was stupid as shit Emmeline! Do you know how worried I was?! I’m gonna go gray from this, and it’s all your fault! Holy fucking shit! I can’t even believe you followed me in there, there were people shooting real bullets, and you just ran after me!”

He couldn’t stop the flow of words coming out of his mouth, he had been worried out of his mind! He wasn’t one to curse usually, but the profanities just came out. But eventually, his anger subsided a little and his tone lowered.

“It was so reckless. Swear to never do that again! I’m dead serious, you can’t pull stunts like that anymore. Putting your life in danger won’t save anyone, it’ll just make the people you love go mad with worry and make my job more difficult. Shooting 101: run _away_ from the bullets. If I see you do that shit one more time, I’ll-“

He was cut off when she pulled him inside her apartment by the wrist, throwing her arms around his neck and sobbing uncontrollably.

“Oh- okay…” she heard him say against her head before returning the hug and rubbing her back in a soothing gesture. He realized just how shaken up she was now, and maybe yelling at her wasn’t the right course of action but he had been _so worried_, he just couldn’t help himself. He had to find a way to make her understand that she couldn’t do things like that. “It’s nice to be invited inside for once,” he joked, trying to make her smile – and she did, before resuming her crying. “Hey, hey, it’s okay now. You’re fine, I’m fine. We got the bad guys, no need to worry now. I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

Bella had calmed down as soon as she recognized their visitor when he stopped yelling at her owner and was now sitting by their feet, wagging her tail, tongue out.

“Why does it feel like you’re constantly saving me from one thing or another?” Emmeline mumbled, trying to recompose herself. “You were hurt because of me. I saw the blood.”

“Not an impression,” he laughed. “I actually do that. And don’t worry about that, I heal fast.”

“You know what I mean!” she countered, pulling back and wiping away her tears. It felt good, she needed to let it out. She was just sorry it had to be on the local super hero’s super suit. “Did you put a tracker on me? Figured trouble was wherever I was?”

“I did not, but there’s an idea.”

“Don’t you dare.”

He laughed, his shoulder shaking slightly, and she found she couldn’t stay serious and soon joined him.

“I can’t stay, but I wanted to make sure you were alright. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you look like a hot mess and I’ve never seen you so dressed down even in pajamas, but you look like you’ll make it through the night,” he teased her, letting his arms fall each side of his body. His eyes lingered on the bandage on her cheek but it didn’t look too bad. He was there when that bullet blasted away a chunk of wood near her face.

“What happened to the shooters?” She wanted to know, for her peace of mind.

“Two killed, three arrested. The police say it was a political act,” he told her, a bit bitterly. There was a long moment of silence. “Don’t you want to know if your parents are fine?”

Emmeline’s smile dropped and her face shut off before his eyes. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that they weren’t her real parents and that they never really acted like parents anyway, but he had thought that she would ask about them.

She recalled the moment she realized they had run off, letting her alone on that stage in the middle of a shooting whose targets they most definitely were. She gulped down and brought her lips in a thin line, arms crossed over her chest.

“I don’t have parents.”

The sentence hung heavy between them, and Peter was starting to rethink his brilliant idea to swing by on his way to aunt May’s. He needed to go back; she must be worried out of her mind. He had told her where he was going tonight and knew she would be watching the live on TV.

“Go now,” she said, stepping back and looking away. “I also have something to do.”

Just then, her phone buzzed and Peter wondered who it might be. He didn’t ask, it was none of Spider-Man’s business. Without another word, just a friendly nod, he was out again, and Emmeline stood by the open window, still freezing cold.

“Merry Christmas,” she said to no one in particular.

Then she closed the window and got moving.


	14. Chapter 14

The streets of New York have never seemed shadier and less safe than tonight. Bella felt Emmeline’s unease and urged the pace, trying to reach their destination quicker. She had entered the address Ned texted her in maps, and now power walked through the city. She didn’t want to use a taxi, she needed the fresh air, despite feeling cold down to her very soul, she needed the quiet.

One would argue that the streets of New York, even at night and on Christmas day, were not quiet. But it was better than being trapped inside a taxi. It felt good to walk somewhere after having been taken from one place to another all day, wearing high heels and a dress. In comparison, her winter boots and jeans and sweater sure felt like the most comfortable thing she had ever worn. 

“We’re here… I think,” she told Bella, who stopped in her tracks as soon as Emmeline turned towards the building harboring the right number. “The fourth floor, he said. The light is on at least.”

This building was nothing like what she was used to. The staircase was narrow, the walls needed a fresh layer of paint, the steps were uneven in places and the whole place smelled a bit weird, but she climbed up, preceded by Bella, up to the fourth floor. She stared at the doormat for the longest time, smiling to herself. It read _Carpe Diem_, the lettering surrounded by tacky blue flowers.

The door opened. She hadn’t even realized she had knocked, but soon, there was a tall woman standing before her, big glasses on her nose, long brown hair, a friendly smile that quickly dropped when she saw Emmeline’s bandage.

Em opened her mouth to say something but the woman – aunt May she presumed – was quicker.

“You must be Em,” she said. “Come on in, honey. It’s cold outside.”

May held the door open for her and Bella, smiling at the dog wagging its tail, not showing any animosity towards the friendly woman. For the first time in hours, Emmeline felt warm. As soon as she stepped inside this tiny, slightly cluttered apartment, she was hit by a wave of coziness and warmth that nearly made her cry again.

“I’m so sorry to intrude, I know it’s Christmas but I couldn’t reach Peter and I was worried so I decided to come by. I hope I’m not-“

“Easy there,” May laughed, giving a reassuring squeeze to her shoulder and offering to take her coat. Emmeline nodded and took of the garment, handing it to her host who hung it behind the door, along with her scarf. “You’re not intruding at all. Peter’s friends are always welcome here. Do you want something to drink? You look like you could do with some warming up. I’ll tell Peter you’re here.”

“I’d love a drink, yes,” she graciously accepts, wiping her palms on her jeans. Where to stand? What to do? Bella barked suddenly, making Emmeline jump back and clasp a hand over her heart.

“Oh, she must have sensed Tessa’s presence,” May explained, smiling as she filled the kettle with water. “Peppermint alright with you?”

Emmeline nodded. This was an out of body kind of experience; she had no idea what too do with herself.

“Sit down, please. I saw what happened tonight, you must be pretty shaken up. I’m sorry you had to go through that, but I’m glad Peter and you are both alright.” She offered her a sincere smile when handed her a mug with her tea. “I’ll be right back.”

May disappeared for a second, to get Peter. It was Emmeline’s chance to take a deep breath and look a bit around her. This place was full of life and memories. On the walls hung pictures of Peter when he was younger. There were trophies in a corner, and a medal too. He had won prizes at science fairs and whatnot. Emmeline smiled to herself. She had won her fair share of prizes too, but she didn’t know what happened to those – except that they were definitely not proudly displayed on her parents’ mantlepiece that’s for sure.

Peter came back alone; May must have thought they’d want a bit of privacy.

“Em, what- what are you doing here?” he stuttered out, still pulling down his sweater when he stumbled into the living room. He was coming out of the shower.

“Peter-“

Emmeline’s instinct was to pull on Bella’s leash to prevent her from growling up at Peter since she has never met him – a feat, really. How was it even possible that her dog and Peter had never seen each other?

Except the strangest thing happened: Bella didn’t start barking, or growling. Bella gently tugged on her leash and rolled on her back, asking for belly scratches from this perfect stranger.

It rose a red flag in Emmeline’s mind, and for some reason, she recalled what Dexter told him about having a shattered jaw. She suddenly remembered Peter’s unexplainable bruises, and how tired he always was. Spider-Man telling her that Peter was safe, even though she hadn’t mentioned his name. Peter knowing she was lactose intolerant when she hasn’t told him. She connected dots that she had no idea she even noted, she linked together seemingly unrelated events until she came to a conclusion that she wasn’t sure she liked at all. It was crazy. She had to be wrong. But was she?

Her eyes landed on his shirt, and she saw it. The tiniest, faintest trace of blood forming exactly where the thought Spider-Man had been shot.

“What the fuck?” she breathed out.

Peter flinched, having seen the look of recognition in her eyes. She had come here to appease her mind, not to unveil a secret she had no idea was there. A part of her saw Peter more clearly than she ever had before; another part felt the full impact of the betrayal she just found out about.

“Don’t freak out,” he told her, holding up his hands. “I can explain.”

“Can you, now?” she asked, barely holding it together. Was she going to cry or scream and throw a vase at him? Even she didn’t know. Oh, it would be a surprise then. “What explanation could possibly make this pill easier to swallow?”

Bella seemed confused about the lack of belly scratched and rolled over again, now looking for the other dog in the house. Em unhooked the leash without thinking, watching Bella dash towards another room. Yes, she wanted to storm out and never look back, but she also wanted to stay here. More than anything. She wanted to hold Peter in her arms, and find the reassurance she had come here to find.

Instead, she found this new mess to deal with.

“What the fuck, Peter?” she repeated. “Months! It lasted months!”

She didn’t need to explain what she was referring to. All the times he had visited her. Hell, he had visited her tonight. She had spent a whole five minutes crying into his chest. She had told him her secrets, she had trusted him, Spider-Man. Only to find out that he was the very person she was telling him about.

“Oh, my God,” Emmeline whispered to herself. “Oh, my God.”

Her fingers raked through her hair so hard it hurt her scalp but everything was too much, too much to deal with. She already had so much on her plate, how was she supposed to handle this too?

“It’s not a joke, is it? If it is, it’s sick, and you need to tell me right now,” she said, holding onto a shred of hope.

Peter slowly shook his head no, and Emmeline fell onto the sofa, unable to stand any longer.

“I’m sorry, I-“

“Don’t. Don’t serve me a stupid excuse.” It was impossible to pretend not to be disappointed and hurt. She didn’t even look at him. “You came tonight. You were on my balcony only an hour ago. I was worried _sick_ that something happened to you when we got separated during the shooting. I tried to call you, I asked Ned to text me your address and I came all the way here just to make sure you were alright!” she suddenly shouted at him, eyes glistening with unshed tears. “You know that I hate to go out at night! You know because you’re fucking Spider-Man and you were there when I was assaulted in that alley! Couldn’t you let me know you are safe?”

Peter joined her, kneeling in front of her and trying to get her to meet his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, I tried to let you know I was okay, remember I told you-“

“Spider-Man told me you were evacuated by the police. That’s all I get? I was worried out of my mind! Anything could have happened! Anything! Dexter was nagging me about having been ditched by my date, the police wouldn’t let me through, I was all alone there, looking for you!”

“I’m sorry, Em. I never meant to hurt you.” It would make things a lot easier if he didn’t look so genuinely sorry, and Emmeline already regretted looking at him. It was easier being mad when she wasn’t looking. “My phone was destroyed in the chaos, and I needed to come back here quickly to let May know I was alive.”

“Does she know?”

“Yes. Ned knows too.” At last she was getting answers. It was as though the truth was pouring out of Peter’s mouth, finally. “But, Em, it’s a secret, you ha-“

“I’m not going to tell anyone,” she cut him off, annoyed that he would even suggest that she would. “Fuck you, Parker!”

He shot her a little crooked smile.

“That’s not what I was going to say. You have to understand why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t keep it from you for selfish reasons; the people who know are in danger because of it.”

“You’ve seen my life! When am I ever safe?” Emmeline countered, standing up and facing away from Peter now. “I told you so many things… _private_ things…”

Spider-Man… or rather Peter’s words came rushing back to the forefront of her mind. _I only exist to you when I’m here and not outside of this balcony_. It wasn’t true. _You talk to me the same way you would write in a journal you intend to burn once full. _It couldn’t be true.

“And I kept them between us, didn’t I? Whatever you told Spider-Man, I never used it against you as Peter. Please, you have to see that, I didn’t deceive yo-“

“You took advantage of me, whether you like it or not,” she cut him off again. What he said made sense, but she didn’t want to listen to her sense of reason. “What did you expect, Peter? I’m curious. Did you think you could keep on leading two different lives and that I wouldn’t notice? Were you going to maintain two separate relationships with me?”

“No, I…” There was nothing to say, she wasn’t wrong. He hadn’t thought far enough ahead when he began to develop real feelings for her, and when he realized he was, he didn’t want to think about the consequences of his actions. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Well… I don’t know if I can look past what you did,” Emmeline sighed, feeling a stone drop inside of her. She felt like throwing up. She needed to get out of here. “Tell your aunt it was nice to meet her, and thank her for the tea. Bella, come here!”

She whistled and Bella came running on command, followed by Tessa who stopped by Peter’s feet while Emmeline hooked the leash back on Bella’s collar.

“No, wait,” Peter tried to stop her when she went for her coat. “Please, stay. Let’s talk this out.”

“I don’t want to talk to you, Peter. I can’t even look at you. Don’t try to see me again.”

Every word weighted heavy on her tongue, tasted like rust. She wanted to cry so badly. She wanted to stay in this warm and welcoming place and not have to go back to her empty, lifeless penthouse, where no one waited for her, where no one offered to make her a cup of tea to warm her up.

“Em- Em, please. Please, I didn’t mean to lie. You have to believe me, I’m sorry it came to this. I’m so sorry, I should have told you…”

She didn’t look at him, she didn’t even turn around as she wrapped her scarf around her neck.

“It applies to Spider-Man, too,” she said. “I don’t- I just….” A sigh. “Stay away from me. I need to be alone.”

Did she? Not really. But being alone was the closest thing to being safe for her. She was used to it; it was familiar. No one could hurt her, if she was alone. Still, it would have been difficult to miss the tremor in her voice, and Peter flinched upon seeing just how upset he had made her.

And out she walked, leaving Peter standing there, rubbing his neck, hitting his forehead against the door frame as soon as she was gone. Her perfume lingered in the air for a minute or so, and Tessa whined next to him, sensing that something was off.

“You need to fix this, Peter,” came May’s voice, soft and gentle, as always.

“You heard her,” he answered with a deep, hopeless sigh. “She doesn’t want to see me again.”

“She’ll come back towards you, trust me.” May came to stand by his side and smacked a kiss on top of his head. “Give her time, and then earn back her trust. Make sure to deserve it this time.”

“I really messed up.”

May only hummed slightly and closed the door, but Peter didn’t need confirmation. He needed Emmeline to forgive him.


	15. Chapter 15

“Kid,” Tony started, having had enough to watching Peter manhandle his lab material. “I’m gonna have to ask you to take a break.”

Peter, who had been hunched over his desk in the workshop, intently focused on his work and barely registering what was happening around him, hadn’t heard Tony come in. He dropped his tools and rolled back in his chair, using the heel of his hand to brush some strands of hair out of his face.

“What’s up Mr. Stark?” he asked, already alert. “Is there a mission?”

Tony winced a little and put his hands in his pockets, kicking an imaginary ball with his right foot. Peter sounded too eager for his next big mission. He noticed how he spent increasingly more time at the tower, even though the Christmas holidays weren’t over, instead of seeing his friends.

“No, Peter. There’s no mission. I just think you’ve been clocking in too often these days. I’d even go as far as to say you come here to avoid doing something else.”

Peter stared at him, blinked once. Twice. Then he tried to smile – the result was stiff and awkward.

“I don’t know what you mean. I only wanted to get this done before classes start again, I’m working on th-“

“I know what you’re working on, Peter,” Tony cut him off, taking the last few steps separating them and grabbing the little device from Peter’s desk. “I also know it’s been done for a few days now, because I crash tested it this week-end.”

Peter’s jaw clenched.

“It needs improv-“

“Will you quit arguing with me and just tell me what’s on your mine?” Tony sighed, sitting on the desk. He could tell Peter was at a hair’s width away from just rolling away on his desk chair and right into the open doors of the elevator to escape this conversation. “I can recognize the look in your eyes, I’ve had it myself. Trust me when I say that burying yourself under work doesn’t help. Now tell me, what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing.”

“Wrong answer. You’re a terrible liar, by the way, in case I’ve never told you.”

“Nothing of your concern,” Peter tried again. It wasn’t like him to be so disrespectful towards a figure of authority, especially someone he admired as much as he did Mr. Stark, or anyone else for that matter. He was mad at himself and shouldn’t take it out on other people. “I’m sorry,” he couldn’t help but apologize. “I swear it’s nothing. It’s not important.”

His voice dwindled towards the end, and he looked away, leaning into his chair and realizing he had been in a defensive stance all day, and now he faced Mr. Stark sitting straight as an ‘I’, shoulders tense. No wonder he had noticed something was amiss.

“Maybe not in the grand scheme of things, but it’s obviously important to you. Are you going to tell me or do I need to guess?”

In typical stubborn man whose pride had been wounded fashion, Peter refused to look up or answer, simply grinding his teeth and willing his mentor to leave him brood in peace while taking his frustration out on his work.

“Would a certain Miss Gerard be at the heart of your problem, by any chance?” Tony ventured, pursing his lips in wait of an answer. Peter remained quiet, but something must have given him away because Tony chuckled to himself, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk on his face. “I haven’t seen her here in a few weeks, she used to drop by regularly after that first day you brought her here. Lovers’ quarrel?”

“You got the quarrel part right,” Peter grumbled, sucking in his cheeks. He hated that they were having this conversation. “After the shooting on Christmas’ Eve.”

“Ah. Was she mad because she thought you left her there?”

“No.” Peter groaned, rubbing his face with both hands. This was such a massive pile of steaming shit of a situation. He got himself all tangled in a web of lies – pun intended – and he hadn’t risen to the occasion to come clean when he still could. Now it was too late – she knew everything and felt betrayed, used and cheated, and she was right to feel that way. “It’s more delicate than that.”

“Do you need a woman’s opinion? ‘cause I can call Pepper if you want…“ Tony suggested, not finishing his sentence but pointing towards the elevator.

“God, no, don’t do that,” Peter pleaded, recovering some of his usual shyness and blushing at the sheer thought of having this conversation with anyone else than Tony. It was bad enough as it is. “She…” Peter licked his lips, suddenly apprehensive of Tony’s reaction. Surely, he wasn’t going to leap in joy upon hearing one more person knew Peter’s secret. Oh well, here goes nothing. “She knows, Mr. Stark.”

Not the most self-explanatory sentence, but the graveness of his tone must have been enough to understand what exactly he was talking about. Tony’s face fell a little and he sat down on the nearest chair, his mood getting serious too.

“I see.” There was a pregnant pause before he looked at Peter again. “Did you tell her?”

“No, her dog gave me away.” He looked down in shame, staring at his worn-out Converses, taking a mental note to buy a new pair one of these days.

“I’m sorry, did you just say her _dog_ gave you away?” Tony repeated in astonishment.

“It’s a long story,” Peter simply answered. He had no desire to tell the whole story now. “I should have told her myself.”

“So it’s that serious, ugh? I take it she didn’t react very well at the news?” Tony hummed. “It’s too bad, I liked her. She’s bold and passionate. You two worked well together.”

_Yeah_… Peter thought, disgruntled. _We did work well together_… Ever since the events that brought them apart, he tried not to dwell too much on the moments they had shared. The light finger brushes, the lingering stares, the bright smiles and the easy-going companionship. Fuck, he missed her so much. Why didn’t he just tell her? Why couldn’t he keep away from her as Spider-Man? He went wrong in so many places.

“Hey, kid,” Tony called Peter when he realized he had been zoning out and wasn’t listening to a single thing he said. Peter shook his head and met Tony’s eyes. “Don’t give up just yet. It’s not the end of the world, there’s hope.”

Easy to say, not so easy to do. Peter had kept in mind what May had told him the night Emmeline stormed out of his apartment, asking him not to contact her again. He was waiting very patiently for her to process the news and come around. Every day he woke up and checked his phone, and upon seeing the lack of messages from her, he became mad at the small device and almost threw it out the window on several occasions.

All this misplaced anger. He should direct it towards himself, but he didn’t know how. He couldn’t just go out looking for a fight with some thugs, he was too strong for them. And it wasn’t like any of the Avengers still in residence would agree to beat the shit out of him during a sparring session if he asked.

A day before New Year’s Eve, Peter had called Ned and told him he had fucked up really bad, hoping that talking about I would make him feel better in some way, shape, or form, but it didn’t work in the least. If anything, Peter left worse than before. He had slept through the change of year: he had told May he was meeting with friends and went directly to the tower, where he knew he could spend the night without hearing a single firework or any other noise from the outside world.

Today, it was a week later, and while Tony had lasted remarkably long in staying out of Peter’s business, he had had to ask what was wrong. Peter knew it would come; he knew he spent way too much time at the tower for it to not look suspicious.

And tonight, he went to her apartment. He didn’t venture on her balcony, out of respect for her wish not to see him again, but he sat on top of a nearby building that gave him a direct view of the balcony he had spent so many nights on.

Every other apartment of the building was lit up and he could see people having dinner, watching TV, and whatnot. Emmeline’s was plunged in the dark and he couldn’t see a thing. He didn’t like the feeling of dread that overcame him when he realized she probably wasn’t home. Did she go away because she knew he wouldn’t be able to keep away from her?

All this angst was messing with his sleeping schedule. He went back to his dorm because he didn’t want to worry May, and his low moods even rubbed off on Tessa now.

The days were slow and the weeks long until classes began again. Peter had been waiting for the day he would see Emmeline again. He feared it too, because he hadn’t heard back from her since Christmas and he was worried that she didn’t find it in herself to look past his deception.

Was she going to sit next to him in class today? Or was she going to go back to her seat at the back of the room? Had enough time passed since their argument?

To say that Peter was distraught to notice her absence was the understatement of the century. His heart dropped and he barely listened to the teacher. At the end of the day, he felt a hundred years older than when we woke up in the morning. Ned had joined him for dinner at his dorm cafeteria in an attempt to cheer him up, and Tessa was there too, sitting under the table, her head resting on Peter’s thighs – it was her go-to position these days, her way to try to lift his mood.

Peter knew they were trying to make him feel better, but he simply didn’t have the energy right now, and he played with his food until it became cold, barely paying attention to what was around him. Tessa even grew tired of seeing him mopping around and walked away. He only looked up from his untouched plate when Ned elbowed him so hard, he dropped his fork.

“What is it, Ned? I’m not in the mood.”

“Dude!” Ned whispered, nodding towards something behind Peter’s back.

When he turned around and saw Emmeline a few steps away. She was crouched down, smiling brightly at Tessa and scratching her ears, giving her pats her kisses. His heart soared at the sight, then dropped again.

She finally stood up, knocking the air out of Peter’s lungs with a mere look. He stopped breathing, half expecting her to spin on her heels and walk away. But her eyes bore into his and she didn’t move for a while. Or maybe it only felt like a long time because he hadn’t seen her in weeks. Peter was frozen in place until Ned spoke up.

“Get your ass up, man! Go talk to her.”

He did, almost tripping as he stood up, making a fool of himself in the process, but he did. He could swear he saw the shadow of a smile on her lips.

He didn’t know how he got in front of her, but there he stood, and he still didn’t have the slightest idea what to tell her.

“Let’s go somewhere we can talk,” she said, voice a little croaky but managing a smile. No hello; no beating around the bush.

Nodding, he asked Ned to keep an eye on Tessa until he came back, then led the way. They stepped out into the night. It wasn’t late but it was January and the sun set early. In any other circumstances, he would have gone to his room, but he wasn’t entirely sure she would welcome the idea. It was his personal space, and he couldn’t tell if they were still this close…

In any case, the cold air would do him some good. Get his thoughts in order, maybe. It helped with other things too. The wind helped blow away the sweet scent of her perfume following her for example.

All his senses were on high alert, everything was exponentially more intense, he was aware of every little thing: the sound of her steps behind him, her ragged breathing, the delicate brush of her shoulder against him when he held the front door open for her and she walked out of the building. No one was around, it was too cold and dark to hang out outside.

They had been quiet up until now, but he was screaming inside. A voice at the back of his head told him to break the ice and say something, anything at all, but he couldn’t.

He especially couldn’t when she turned around, looking all awkward and adorable, rubbing her left arm and biting on her lower lip, looking at her feet before finally meeting his gaze and making him forget his train of thought. Peter’s hand yearned to reach out to her, this distance was unbearable. She was standing a meter away from him, and it was too much.

“Tessa missed you,” he eventually said. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! Talking about your dog? Way to go, man_.

She didn’t seem to mind the awkward opening sentence and even smiled a little. She tightened her scarf around her neck before speaking.

“I missed her too,” Emmeline replied with the same shy smile she shot him before. _She’s uncomfortable with me now_, Peter thought bitterly. “I miss _you_, Peter.”

There was something he hadn’t expected to hear, and it answer to this surprising confession, he shrugged. He shrugged. Then he sucked in his cheeks, willing his heartbeat to slow down and his cheeks not to turn red. Red with embarrassment, red with flusterment, and red from frustration.

“I’m right here,” he eventually told her, keeping his voice very low even though they were alone, walking lazily across campus to nowhere in particular, just from one streetlight to the next. _What else was he supposed to say_?

A soft, all too familiar smile graced Emmeline’s lips then.

“You know what I mean. Four weeks feel like forever without seeing you,” she added, not making it any easier for Peter to keep his calm.

If he knew what she meant? He had missed her so much that he drove his aunt and friends crazy.

However, and as much as he hated it, a part of him was mad. Mad that she didn’t give him a chance to explain himself, mad that she disappeared for weeks and let him worry, not giving any sign of life! But it was a small, petty part of himself.

“You asked me to stay away, what did you expect I would do?”

Now that wasn’t fair, and this time Peter couldn’t stop his cheeks from flaming up after telling this blatant, shameful and petty lie. He had tried to see her again, even if he had meant it to be discrete this time, and she had been in her own right to ask to be left alone.

It came out a little harsher than intended too. Where was all this pent-up anger all those weeks of loneliness? He had felt her absence so deeply, it was hard not to sound bitter, but now wasn’t the time to let his frustration out. This was on him. He only had himself to blame.

Then again, he knew he messed up, and in the end, his own idiocy had made him as miserable as her. Shouldn’t that count for something? Play in his favor, somehow? He was grasping at straws and he knew it.

“Ouch,” Emmeline laughed a little then, wincing at his words. She looked down at her feet and then back up again. “I guess I deserve that.”

They had stopped walking. Peter couldn’t remember when exactly, but he realized it when a snowflake gently twirling down and fell on Emmeline’s cheek, her face illuminated by the sharp white light of the streetlamp they stood under.

“No, no…” Peter shook his head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it, I just- I…” With his hands still in his pockets because he didn’t have his gloves, he shrugged again.

He had well and truly stolen that habit of shrugging important things off from Emmeline. God, he had waited to see her again for weeks and now that she was there, ready to listen to him, he fucked it up again. She was so beautiful; she took his breath away. The way she simply stood there, nose slightly buried in her thick scarf to protect it from the cold, oblivious to the effect of her mere presence on him.

“You had every right to be mad at me. I- I lied… I hid things from you… I pretended…”

The list could go on but Peter already had a hard time holding up her gaze as it was, no need to add to the list of his offences. Was it foolish of him to still hope that their blooming relationship was salvageable? Had he given too much credit to May and Tony’s encouragements?

Suddenly, Emmeline let out a shaky breath, eyes sparkling with something he couldn’t put his finger on. It had never been so hard not to close the distance between them, and Peter’s hand twitched from having to stay put. _She’ll come to you_, May had said. In her own time. He shouldn’t-

The impact nearly knocked him off his feet but Peter held steady and welcomed Emmeline’s embrace, even if it almost sent them both toppling over. It took him a moment to process what was happening, but luckily for him his body was quicker than his brain and his arms encircled her as soon as her body hit his.

He breathed in deeper than he had at any point during the last four weeks, and the intoxicating scent of her signature perfume filled his lungs, making him pleasantly dizzy. The way she clung to him, arms around his shoulders and face against his neck, breathed a new life into him. She gave no sign of wanting to let go, and Peter was not complaining in the least. She was soft and warm in cold, harsh environment, he could have held onto her forever.

With one hand around her waist and the other resting behind her neck, he gently stroked her hair – God, she had the softest hair he had ever touched. Not that he had a lot of material to compare it to, but it was hard to imagine anything softer than Emmeline’s long, shiny hair. Unable to hold back, Peter nuzzled it, closing his eyes to enjoy the moment and try to slow down the frantic rhythm of his heartbeat.

She pulled away just as quickly as she pulled him into the hug. While Peter had no desire to let go, he unwrapped his arm from around her and let her take a step back. She was a bit red in the face, she rubbed her cheeks as if to physically get the blush to go away.

“Sorry,” she croaked out. “That was inappropriate, I just-“

“I missed you,” he finished for her, shoving his hands into his front pockets to stop himself from fidgeting. Emmeline pulled on her sleeves and looked down at her feet to collect herself before meeting his gaze again. “And I hope I haven’t ruined everything between us.”

His eyes asked the silent question he couldn’t bring himself to voice but he saw on Emmeline’s face that she read him well enough to see it.

“I’m not mad at you anymore, Peter,” she told him, earning a sigh of relief. “I know I flipped out at Christmas, and then I went cold turkey on you and disappeared from the face of the earth for weeks. I needed a bit of time to process everything and…” _and figure out if you still wanted to see me now that you know the truth_, Peter finished her sentence in his head.

She had told him she didn’t want to see him or Spider-Man again, but after the second week of radio silence, he spied on her apartment, trying to get a glimpse of her, just one glimpse to make sure she was alright and then he was going to leave her be. He hadn’t seen her. In fact, he had gone back once more – maybe she was just out that night? – but it seemed the place was deserted.

“I’m mad at myself, though,” she then said, making him frown and shake his head.

“What- Why?”

She hesitated. Peter’s brain gears overworked to try and find a reason for her to be mad at herself when he was the one who had deceived her. It looked like she didn’t know where to look, her eyes jumped from one thing to the next, all in an effort to not meet his eyes. Eventually, she sighed and looked up again.

“Let’s get something to drink. I think I owe you a coffee at the very least.”


	16. Chapter 16

_She’s buying time_, Peter thought. Far be it from him to turn her down though, after weeks of radio silence and being deprived of the girl he liked, he was going to indulge himself and take every occasion to spend time with her.

They continued their walk, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Emmeline who hugged herself, holding her coat as tightly closed as possible as they silently walked across campus, to this coffee shop they used to go to after walking Tessa, or in between classes. Peter entered first and was happy to find the place mostly empty, and their usual table available. It was right next to the window, and the place hadn’t been stripped off its Christmas decorations yet. 

It brought forth memories he put tremendous effort into not thinking about for the last few weeks. He thought he had a better chance to respect Emmeline’s wish of being left alone if he didn’t linger on their time together. Thinking about how soft her hair was and how much she liked to make him blush with her silly remarks surely hadn’t helped towards the end.

They ordered and waited for their coffees to arrive in amicable silence. Peter was tense, of course, but it was surprisingly not unbearably awkward between them, if maybe a little bit strange to have this distance. He hadn’t realized how close they had grown until their separation. Now they sat right across from each other at a small table, and still, he felt an entire world stand between them.

When she spoke up, Peter had to shake his head, chasing away his dark thoughts.

“I think…” She took a deep breath, stretching her fingers to stop fumbling with the hem of her sleeves. “I think I suspected it all along. That you’re Spider-Man, I mean. I had all the pieces of the puzzle right before my eyes, but it wasn’t until Bella…” she trailed off again. “Everything clicked into place then, and when my anger finally subsided a few days after our argument, I became so upset with myself. I should have seen it! You _knew_ things, you had these _bruises_ that showed up for no reason, you were always so tired all the time, almost as if you didn’t sleep at night. And you’re way too fit for someone who doesn’t go to the gym; you have insane reflexes; you know Tony Stark, for fuck’s sake! You know the Avengers… How did I not figure it out sooner?”

Everything she said was true. During his long hours of self-flagellation, after Emmeline stormed out on him, he realized he might even have dropped his guard on purpose. Not consciously. But still, a part of him wanted her to figure it out. When she finally had, it didn’t go as well as he might have hoped, but it was a relief still – even now, even if he didn’t know if she would forgive him for the way he had acted. What if they were never able to go back to the way things were before?

A ridiculous thought, he knew. There was no going back to what was before.

“I’ve been blind this whole time – which doesn’t make it okay for you to have kept me in the dark. Didn’t you know you could trust me?” Such pain in her voice when she said the last part. “I thought you knew me.”

Peter wanted to answer, he really did. He didn’t know what to say because, yes, he knew he could trust her with his secret, he knew she wouldn’t run to the press or blackmail him or anything of the sort. But he wasn’t looking for someone else to share his secret with – he was looking for someone, for _Emmeline_, to accept him as he was.

He desperately yearned for the girl he liked, and hoped that she would understand in her own time that he was more than just another college student, and she wouldn’t reject him for having kept this secret or for the dangerous lifestyle he led.

How stupid of him. It had been a selfish thought he entertained for too long. The best thing he could do for her was to not involve her in the first place. It was too late now, but not completely unsalvageable.

“I trusted you. I trusted both of you. I mean-“ she began, pulling on her hair as she raked her fingers through it. It was messier than usual, albeit still the softest. “Everything is _so_ confusing now. I told you so much about myself, and to Spider-Man too! And now I find out that you’re the same person. I don’t know- I just-“ She couldn’t find her words and breathlessly stared at him for a few seconds. “I don’t know how to talk to you anymore.”

It wasn’t an easy thing to hear; it hit Peter so hard that he was rendered speechless for a solid thirty seconds, during which he looked down in shame, unable to meet her misty eyes.

“I understand. I’m sorry about all of that. If you want me to leave you alone now, I-“

“No!” Emmeline protested, cutting him off mid-sentence. “No, Peter,” she said again, softer this time. “I don’t want you out of my life. I want you in, the whole you. Not bits and pieces here and there, not just one version of you.”

Once again struck mute, Peter gaped at her, not getting a word out of his mouth. If someone had told him this conversation would take a turn for the better, he wouldn’t have believed them. For days now, he had been bracing himself for the worst – possibly for never hearing of Emmeline again and simply see her vanish from his life.

“You can’t say things like this lightly, Em,” Peter finally said when he recovered his voice. He gulped down, avoiding her gaze. She really had more guts than him. “It’s not something you just decide like that, my life is more complicated than you think…”

“_Your_ life is complicated?” She laughed, rubbing her nose with the sleeve of her sweater and looking off into the distance, through the dirty window. It was fogging up slightly because of the clash of warm and cold between the outside and the inside. “Welcome to the fucking club, man. I’m not saying this lightly. I’ve been trained since my childhood not to say anything lightly lest someone take it out of its original context and use it against me. I mean it, Peter.”

“I never know when I’ll have to leave suddenly. Sometimes for days,” he felt the need to tell her; be blunt.

Not once when he was playing their reunion in his head in the shower had he considered she might insist on being a part of his life and he would have to argue against that. Not that he was averse to the idea, but he couldn’t let her do this without making sure she knew what it entailed. The good and the bad – mostly the bad.

“I get it,” she answered, nodding while nibbling on her thumb nail.

“Avengers duty always comes before personal matters. Saving lives comes before my private life.”

If there was one sure way to never get a girl to like him, that must be it. But Emmeline still nodded in understanding, not backing down.

“I could get killed.” He swallowed thickly. He didn’t like to think about that outcome, though it was a possibility not to exclude. Every mission could be the last. “You could get killed, just because you know me. Because you know my identity, because you’re close to me.”

“I could get killed if I don’t look both ways before crossing the road,” she relied with a scoff. “Stop trying to dissuade me from being with you.”

“You don’t understand…”

There was a long silence; Peter let his fingers play with the receipt on their table, staring at it so intently that it might just burst into flames by the sheer intensity of it. Emmeline had stopped breathing, Peter noticed, she was holding her breath as she waited for his answer. There she was, laying herself bare for him to see, and he said nothing.

What was there to say? He had wanted to be with her for so long, not realizing that it was selfish of him. It might not be the best option for her, the safest option, at least. It was in Emmeline’s best interest to turn around and never look back on her brief story with Peter Parker.

He had never anticipated that she would be the one pushing for this to happen. Everything had seemed so easy and natural until the moment she realized he had deceived her. That was when it all hit him, when it dawned to him that he had been living in an illusion this whole time.

He gave her a tight-lipped smile. Something shimmered in her eyes and Peter thought it might be tears she tried to suppress with more and more difficulty after each disappointing answer he gave her. He pressed his eyes close, willing himself to stop thinking about her the way he did. She was better off without him in her life; he had been in the wrong when he kept coming again and again to check on her. He wasn’t doing it for her, but for himself.

When he opened his eyes, she wasn’t sitting across from him anymore. A light touch on his shoulder startled him and suddenly she was sitting on the bench next to him, back against the table, her hand still gripping his shoulder.

“How many people know about your secret?” she asked, changing the subject completely.

“Apart from Ned and May? The Avengers, and Tony’s close circle,” he answered after a minute of silence. “I know what you’re thinking, but I didn’t have a choice with them, you-“

“_I_ have the choice,” she cut him off, plunging her eyes into his, still not letting go of his shoulder. “I choose to be with you. Now, you can reject me for a great many reasons, Peter. Maybe you like blonds better?” He shook his head, smiling faintly. “Maybe you think my laugh sounds dumb? Or I’m too high maintenance? Or maybe you can’t live with the fact that I think Lord of the Rings is better than Star Wars?”

He audibly gasped and nearly argued with her but caught himself right on time, earning a smug smirk in answer to his reaction. They had learned not to go there unless they were ready to debate all night long.

“But you can’t push me away because you think it’s what’s best for me. I won’t accept it,” she concluded.

“I’ve liked you for so long, you don’t know how much it costs me,” he confessed, his breathing getting heavier now. Couldn’t she let him go? Couldn’t she see how hard it was for him to tell her no? “Please, Em.”

“There’s no ‘please, Em’,” she snapped, rolling her eyes but smiling timidly. “I like you too, idiot. I haven’t had that many meaningful relationships in my life, but you…” She paused, thinking about what to say. Her eyes travelled upwards and settled on a string of twinkling Christmas lights a before focusing back on Peter. “You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me, and I like you. Not because you’re Spider-Man and I think I owe you for saving me; but because you’re Peter Parker, the kind, cute nerd I have class with. What’s so wrong about that?”

“You’re gonna get hurt because of me!” Peter finally blurted out, shaking off her grip on his shoulder, immediately feeling the absence of her touch. “I know it. The people I love always get hurt, or killed. I- I can’t let this happen to you too, I-“

His voice broke halfway through his sentence. Peter gripped his hair and leaned his elbows on the table, refusing to meet Emmeline’s concerned gaze. He felt her hand on his back, rubbing slowly up and down to soothe him; he also felt her fingers wrap around his wrist to take his hand away from his face and have a good look at him.

“Peter…”

She didn’t say anything else, but it was enough. The amount of emotion stored in this one word, his name, crushed him. He nearly broke right then and there and began to cry, only holding it together by a thread. Emmeline pulled him towards her to wrap her arms around him, nuzzling his neck as she held him close. She rocked them slowly, and began to hum to herself, lulling both of them out of weeks’ worth of anxiety and loneliness.

Peter answered the hug with such desperation, she felt the need to hold on tighter, afraid that he was going to slip through her fingers if she didn’t.


	17. Chapter 17

From the outside, a sense of normalcy seemed to have returned in their lives. Peter waited for Emmeline outside the door to her class; Emmeline walked with Peter and Tessa in-between her classes on Fridays; they sometimes ate together before she returned home at the end of the day.

The outcome of their conversation was certainly not one Peter had known to expect. He had been prepared to wave goodbye to the friendship he had built with Emmeline – and tried very hard not to think about what it would have become if he hadn’t fucked up. Then again, nothing could ever have happened between them as long as she didn’t know the truth about him.

The first Saturday, when she walked out of the elevator and made a beeline for him in the Stark Tower lab, Peter broke into a grin that wouldn’t waver the entire day.

“Hey you!” she greeted him, returning the beaming smile and joined him behind the desk.

“Hey yourself,” Peter answered, almost twisting his neck when he followed her with his gaze.

She set down her bag and hung her coat on the back of a chair before coming to stand next to him.

“What are you working on?” she wondered, leaning in to have a closer look. “Is this a miniature motorbike?” Her eyebrows shot so high up that Peter lost sight of them.

“Oh, it’s nothing, it’s just-“ he caught himself right before the lie came out, and just when Emmeline gave him a skeptical side glance. “I mean, yeah. It’s for Hope. It’s got all kinds of equipment and features that normal bikes don’t have, of course. And it’s fast – like _real_ fast.”

“Hope?” Emmeline asked.

She didn’t point out Peter’s deep blush that he always seemed to sport whenever he said anything related to his work with the Avengers. Unlearning to lie about his double life would take a while, they were both aware of that fact.

“The Wasp,” he explained. He took the motorbike in his hand to have something else to focus his attention on, and try to get his own face in check. It shouldn’t be possible to blush this much. “It’s not its normal size, obviously. Just checking a few things before she tries it out.”

Emmeline made a hand gesture, silently asking if she could hold it and Peter handed it over very carefully, letting her lift it to eyelevel and examine it from up close. She didn’t say anything, only hummed appreciatively a few times.

“When will I meet the Avengers?” she asked as she put it back on Peter’s desk.

Peter’s jaw dropped and he stayed open-mouthed and at loss for words a few seconds, until he saw the expression on Emmeline’s face and the glimmer of playfulness behind her eyes.

“You already met two of them. The best ones,” he told her, now standing up.

He would finish working on Hope’s motorbike later; when Emmeline dropped by, they worked together on his Spider suit. It was the first time they would work on it knowing it was his…

“Oh! Of course, silly me!” she laughed, slapping her palm against her forehead. “Turns out, you’re the most famous of us two! Who’d have thought, ugh?”

Peter rolled his eyes and turned around, walking backwards as they made their way towards the back of the room.

“I also photograph way better than you,” he teased her before quickly dodging her arm when she attempted to smack his head. “What’s that in your hand?” he asked when he spotted the paper bag and the familiar logo.

“Oh nothing…” Emmeline trailed off, lifting the bag and peeking inside. “Only your _favorite_ muffin from your _favorite_ place,” she announced, holding the bag behind her back and out of reach when Peter tried to snatch it from her hand. She placed a palm flat against his chest to keep him at a distance.

Not that it could stop Peter, but her mere touch sent him in a state of complete submission and he froze immediately when her hand was over his heart. He dropped his hand.

“No, you didn’t. I stopped there on my way here, they were all out. I say you’re bluffing!”

“Oh, not for me, baby, they aren’t,” she bragged, wiggling her eyebrows and walking past him, bag still out of his reach. “And since you’re so mean to me, I might eat it myself. If you want one, try going there in your Spider suit!”

“Isn’t that abuse of power?” he wondered, though seriously considering her suggestion. Nah, if Tony found out, he would confiscate the suit, and then wouldn’t he look smart scouting the streets of Queens in his old, DYI suit?

“You kids having a good time?” Mr. Stark’s voice suddenly asked, coming out of nowhere. Emmeline and Peter looked around but saw no one. “Cameras, guys. They are everywhere. Microphones too. Just casually letting you know, in case you decide to get naughty because you think I can’t see you.”

“Ah!” Emmeline exclaimed dramatically, raising both hands in the air. “Here goes my plan for the day!”

“Keep it in your pants, this is a workplace, we only do work-related stuff and nothing fun whatsoever,” Stark said, unable to sound even remotely stern. Then he switched on some music, blasting AC/DC in the lab. “Now get to work, I don’t pay you to slack off!”

He seemed to tune off and only the background music remained, but Peter frowned and shot Emmeline a confused look.

“Pay? He doesn’t pay us?” He said it like a question, wondering if he was being paid this whole time and didn’t realize. “For my fake internship?”

“I don’t know about you, but I got a legit internship. So yeah, I’m getting paid now.” She shrugged and Peter picked up the clue.

“What? Since when? Why haven’t you told me?” he questioned, feeling a little offended that she kept that from him all this time.

She winced.

“It’s pretty recent…” she trailed off, biting on her lip. “Tony came to my place shortly after New Year’s Eve,” she started and Peter immediately knew what was what.

Tony Stark, ever the match-maker, decided to take matters in his own hands and help Peter out after he confessed that Emmeline found out about his secret identity. Or maybe he was simply desperate to get Peter to stop mopping around in his lab.

“I thought he came to plead your cause so I told him to go fuck himself at first,” she then told him. Those words pulled the brakes on Peter’s train of thoughts.

He stared blankly at her for a second or two or more.

“You said what to who now?” he asked dumbly, blinking slowly while she rolled her eyes at him.

“It’s true,” Tony’s voice came again. It seemed it came out of the same speakers through which F.R.I.D.A.Y spoke. “I have the recording, if you want to hear it. And see? _She_ calls me Tony!”

“It’s very rude to eavesdrop on other people’s conversations!” Peter snapped before remembering who he was talking to. “Can we have a little privacy, Mr. Stark?”

Only a faint chuckle answered his request, then it was only Back to Black again. He could only hope he wasn’t listening anymore. For being such a busy person, Tony sure had a lot of time on his hands if he spent it spying on him whenever his crush was around.

Peter was pulled out of his internal musings by Emmeline’s laughter.

“You’re too cute, you know that?” she simply asked, not expecting an answer but chucking him the muffin. “Anyway, long story short: he didn’t come to beg me to forgive you on your behalf, but he offered me an internship.”

“A real one? A legit, normal internship?” Peter felt the need to ask for clarification.

“No, I’m actually a superhero too now. Code name’s Captain Sarcasm,” Emmeline replied with a smirk.

She crossed her arms over her chest while Peter glared at her through narrowed eyes, not appreciating the jokes she made at his expense.

“Don’t you make that face at me, Peter Parker!” She held out a finger and poked him in the chest. “I bought you the best and also last pecan and white chocolate chip muffin in all of New York City, it’s a debt you’ll never be able to pay off, so you better be nice to me.”

“I saved your life! Twice!” he pointed out.

He didn’t really think about what he was doing when he grabbed her finger – he just wanted to make her stop poking him accusingly in the chest. But then he was holding her hand against his own chest, and she still didn’t move it, and he was ready to melt on the floor right then and there. Where was Tony when he needed him?

“Who’s counting?” she simply said with a smile.

Without letting go of his hand, she walked the last few steps to their workshop, dragging him along.

*

Emmeline hadn’t left town to avoid Peter; she didn’t hole herself up in her room and left all other rooms of her penthouse in the dark to throw him off. No, Emmeline hadn’t done that.

What she had done, though, was blackmail her own parents into getting her out of her big, empty penthouse and allow her to gain some kind of autonomy. After the events of December, she had something to hold against them, something that would sink her father’s political career faster than the Titanic: they had left her behind.

The mayor and his lady wife had fled the scene of the shooting, ignoring all their supposedly natural parental instincts that would have made them stay until they knew their daughter was safe. The city was still recovering from the event, it would be the perfect timing for Emmeline to go live on TV, telling everyone what terrible parents they were.

They had spent her entire life forcing riches onto her as if it made up for everything else that lacked in her life. She chose to take this as a fair retribution. She told them to sell the penthouse, that she never wanted to set foot there again, and instead to buy her a reasonably sized place of her own choosing, in a quiet and not so in-your-face neighborhood, a place normal people with a decent income could also afford, and not only the wealthy 1 %.

The new place was in her name, entirely paid for. All she asked of her parents now was to cover her expenses until she had a steady job of her own. In exchange, she would keep her scandalous family secrets to herself, continue to play pretend when they needed to appear as a united family, but not have any other ties to them. She was legal after all, the only thing still tying her down was her lack of money.

She did have a pretty hefty amount of money in her trust fund, but she wouldn’t have access to it for another few years, and she was petty enough to ask her parents to pay for everything a while longer – they liked to buy her affection so much, she figured buying her silence would be the same.

The new place was radically different, in all aspects. Peter liked it a lot, and he had told her so many times. She didn’t keep anything from her old apartment, expect one object.

“I can’t believe you kept this, of all things,” Peter mused, throwing the glasswork in the air and catching it behind his back.

He did this now. He showed off. Emmeline noticed a few subtle changes in his behavior since she found out he was Spider-Man. He didn’t hold back anymore now that he didn’t have to pretend to be an average young man, he allowed himself more liberty around her. She liked that.

“It has a certain sentimental value, you see,” she had told him, taking it from him and setting back on its stand. “Couldn’t leave it behind.”

Peter chuckled and continued to explore the place. It was a typical open space apartment in one of those old buildings that get restored every ten years. This one had a particular charm, and the lighting was great. She had done marvelously well with the decorating.

The wooden floor that creaked in some places was her favorite thing, she told him. The walls were a warm dark red color on the side where her bed proudly stood, and the rest of the apartment was painted a dusty orange. Only warm, rich colors, with wooden furniture, lots of small lamps to creates a cozy atmosphere.

He hadn’t truly measured how impersonal her previous place was, how unlike her. It was obvious now that she hadn’t had a word to say in the decoration of the penthouse, while everything here had been her choice. Every book on her shelves, every plant hanging from the ceiling, and every cushion lined with fringes.

“You’re unusually quiet,” she commented when Peter still hadn’t spoken a word after ten minutes of looking around. “Do you hate it?”

Peter spun around, hand in his front pockets, a little smile dancing on his lips.

“It’s great. I love it.”

“But?” she pressed him.

“But there’s no balcony.” He pouted, but Emmeline’s frown turned into a smirk. “What? Is there?”

She lived on the first floor, she couldn’t have one.

“Come with me,” she said, gesturing him to follow her.

They walked past the bed and the kitchen area and to a narrow backdoor that he had assumed led to an inner courtyard, or a private parking space. But it wasn’t that.

“Wha-“ Peter couldn’t believe his eyes. “You have your own garden in New York City?” he asked, fighting the urge to touch the grass to make sure it was real. It was small, but real.

“Even better than a balcony, ugh?” Her smirk grew even wider. “Thought it was a nice touch, and Bella loves it.”

“I can imagine,” Peter replied distractedly, picturing Tessa playing here.

He stopped himself right there. He couldn’t let himself wander on such slippery slopes right now. Why would his mind even go there? Emmeline had only just let him back into her life, two weeks ago he thought he had ruined everything between them. He couldn’t think about how much Tessa would enjoy having a bit of open space instead of living in a small student dorm.

He especially shouldn’t linger too much on the homey feel of her place, of how hard it hit him that he would love to live in a place like this. He simply couldn’t think about her the way he did.

There was much to rebuild before he could even think about making a move again. Whatever small step he had taken when he asked her out was in the past now. Since then, he had taken a hundred steps backwards, and now he had to fix what he broke before thinking about picking up where they left things off.

Trust, among other things.

He had to unlearn his automatic response to inquisitive questions, become used to tell her the truth when he had to disappear at random times of the day, something for a few hours, sometimes for days. He hadn’t realized how many white lies he told within a single day before he started telling the truth.

“It’s…”

He couldn’t find his words anymore, suddenly too overcome with emotion to speak. It was a daunting task to try and mend the broken limbs of their fragile relationship, and the weight of his own lies and mistakes felt heavy on his chest. It would take time, patience, effort, resilience.

However, when he turned around to meet her expectant smile, waiting for him to finish his sentence, it didn’t seem that impossible, and more than anything: he realized it would be worth it. She was worth it; and if he had been head over heels for her before, he realized he had another thing coming, because now that she was freer than ever, she would truly begin to shine and blossom in a way she couldn’t until now.

“It’s perfect.”


	18. Chapter 18

Peter and her agreed to take things slow, to first build back the trust they had before diving into a relationship.

That being said, neither of them had accounted for the ever-present longing they felt when they stood right next to each other yet couldn’t take the last step separating them. They never expected it to feel so wrong to sit on opposite ends of a couch, or to give up the nearly systematic physical contact they maintained before.

Emmeline used to surprise him by jumping up from behind him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders, they walked with their arms linked, Peter poked her left side while he stood to her right to throw her off, and little things like that. Why did they miss those so much? It was always the _little things_. 

A month later, they both expected to have grown used to their new status quo, but then Valentine Day rolled around, and Peter found every cell in his body urging him to throw aside caution and ask Emmeline out again. If not then, when? How much longer until they had rebuilt the foundations of a solid relationship? How much longer until his double life wasn’t constantly standing between them? And more importantly: how much longer would he be able to bear it?

Unbeknownst to Peter, Emmeline struggled with the same issues, and she wasn’t doing much better when the entire city suddenly turned into a big splash of red and pink, with chocolate advertisement everywhere. Emmeline avoided Time Square altogether and declared she was on a sugar cleanse, not even looking at a piece of chocolate.

She was the one to give in to temptation first. Slowly, day after day, she started getting touchy again. Certain moments she genuinely felt as though she would lose her mind if she kept this security distance with him.

It started small. It started innocent. She squeezed his shoulder when she walked behind him – in class, at the Tower, it didn’t matter. She bumped into his shoulder to get his attention when his focus wavered. She looped a hand around his elbow when they walked together again.

Peter didn’t think much of it except that he enjoyed it very much and was relieved to feel her warm touch again. The gentle grasp of her fingers around his elbow didn’t seem that much of a big deal until he was deprived of it. He knew she could walk on her own regardless of the height of her heels, but he sometimes doubted of _his_ ability to walk without her support.

Then it wasn’t so innocent anymore. It was desperate, though Peter himself was so acutely aware of her touches and moved by them that he never filed them as such. Why just lean over his shoulder when she could wrap her arms around him and rest her chin on his shoulder to see what he was working on? Why go get a chair when Peter’s lap was available? Why hold his elbow when she could wrap her arm around his waist?

It was getting out of hand, she knew that. Could she stop? No, but she knew, at the very least, that she was playing with fire. The best instance of this was the day she asked to see his powers.

“Alright, show me,” she had told him, gesturing him to bring it on.

They had been working in Peter’s dorm room, quizzing each other for an upcoming exam, but any studying had stopped a while ago and they now simply talked the day away while lying on his bed in various relatively uncomfortable positions.

“Show you what?” Peter asked, head perking up to look at her.

He had been lying on his bed, feet up on the wall, while Emmeline had been dangling hers off the mattress. She had stood up.

“A Spider-Man thing! I don’t know! I mean, I’ve known you’re Spider-Man for over a month now, but I have yet to see it for myself,” she said, crossing her arms and shrugging her shoulders. “The people demand proof, Parker.”

“You’ve seen me use my powers,” he objected, sitting Indian style on his bed now and shaking his head. “You’ve seen me lie in a hammock made of my own webs.”

“No, no, no, that doesn’t count. You wore your mask, it doesn’t prove shit,” she argued. She was already holding out her hands to help him off the bed. “I can’t reconcile the picture of you and him. You’re so… different… but also the same? And I don’t know, I guess I’m a little confused sometimes, and I think it would help tremendously if I coul- “

Peter picked up a web shooter from his backpack so fast Emmeline didn’t process what he was doing until it was too late. She never got to finish her sentence because he shot a web at her. Suddenly, she was pulled forward when Peter yanked on it, making her fall straight into his open arms.

The least she could say was that she hadn’t expected this to happen when she made her request. What had she expected? That was a good question. Certainly not to land against Peter’s chest, palms open on his collarbones, her deer-in-the-headlights look making him smirk in this boyish way that never failed to make her blush. She tried to look away but there was nothing she could do to hide it from him when they were so close.

Hadn’t she yearned for a proximity like this?

Come March, they were both holding their breath, waiting for something to happen – anything at all would do, just as long as this sweet mutual torture came to an end.

Life went on as per usual, Winter slowly melted away to make way for Spring, and the slow mending of their relationship seemed long over with. The broken trust felt like an old injury, leaving only a thin, pale scar they barely noticed anymore. Then why couldn’t they act on their feelings?

Virtually nothing stood between them anymore – Emmeline had reclaimed her independence, Peter’s secret was out, she was part of his everyday life and his superhero life now that she interned at Stark Industry. What else were they waiting for?

It was a recurring question that plagued both their minds. Unbeknownst to each other, they had both reached the same conclusion: it wasn’t about waiting the right time, or overcoming obstacles, or even exterior factors keeping them apart.

There was fear – a fear of ruining something so delicate and fragile, yet so precious, as the bond they had developed. It was new for both of them, albeit in different ways. Peter had never met a girl like her, someone who accepted both sides of him and didn’t treat him differently even after finding out the truth about him. Emmeline had never realized she didn’t have to go through life all alone until he walked into her life and showed her.

Somehow, it felt a little wrong to disturb the carefully set balance they established. They stood in precarious equilibrium, the slightest disturbance would throw them off balance, and who knew what would happen then?

It was a matter of estimating the risk-reward ratio, and deciding whether or not they wanted to go into the unknown.

But such downcast thoughts didn’t cloud their minds during the day – they were reserved for lonely evenings spent apart or sleepless nights. The latter were particularly tough on them, they made it hard not to give in to that late night haze that pushed most people to do or say things they would never do or say in broad daylight.

Peter had lost track of how many times he swung by her new place, thinking he could push his fear aside and swipe her off her feet right then and there, before finally coming to his senses and going home. Emmeline couldn’t count how many times she had to turn off her phone completely, lest she make that midnight call that would change everything.

*

“You didn’t have to come here with me,” Peter repeated for the million’s time as he grabbed the glass door and held it open for Emmeline.

“I really don’t mind,” she told him again. How many more times until he believed her? Did he think spending time with him was a chore to her. “Besides, who were you going to ask for a second opinion if not me?”

“Ned?” Peter said with a funny face.

“Is it a question or an answer?” Emmeline laughed.

The bell rang, signaling their presence to the store’s sole employee.

“I don’t even know. But when I asked you to help me find a birthday gift for May, I expected to have a few ideas thrown at me, not a full shopping day.”

Emmeline unwrapped the scarf hanging around her neck, letting her hair fall down her left shoulder.

“We’ve been at it for an hour, Peter. That’s hardly a ‘shopping day’,” she snorted lightly, tugging at the sleeve of his jacket so he would follow her. “What does she normally wear?”

Peter wasn’t too sure about this, but after ruling out the usual mundane gifts that were more practical than fancy, Emmeline had insisted on going to a jewelry store.

He thought about it for a second, until his eyes set on a glass window.

“Earrings,” he said. “She wears earrings every day.”

With all the expertise of a young girl brought up in wealth, Emmeline began to scour the rows and rows of jewelry, pointing out several to Peter who hummed in appreciation whenever he liked something.

This went on for a while, until the store manager was finished with the previous customers and came to see them.

“Miss, sir,” he began. “How may I be of help? Are you looking for something in particular?” He looked at the window display in front of Peter and Emmeline before adding, “a ring, perhaps?”

Peter stiffened and his faced burnt up faster than he thought possible while Emmeline blushed lightly and turned towards him, a sideways smirk on her lips. She edged on embarrassment and laughter, not knowing what to say.

“Oh, no,” she eventually told the men in his fifties that stood before them. “We are here for a birthday gift. We thought earrings would be nice. Maybe gold – what do you think, Peter? I think your aunt is a gold perso-“

A sudden shriek coming from other customers who had wandered in the store cut her off. Peter’s hair stood on end the second the shrill sound interrupted his train of thoughts. Before anyone knew what was going on, the front door had been blocked from the inside by a man dressed in black, while two others stood each side of their partner, AK 47 in hands.

How could he have missed that? Peter felt his heart drop at the realization of what just happened. Within a handful of seconds, they had been taken hostage and locked into a small hole-in-the-wall store. Had the old man’s assumption thrown him off to the point of missing something so big? It wasn’t good.

Coming back to his senses, Peter pulled Emmeline to his chest and turned around to shield her with his body the second they began to fire their guns, earning another round of screams from the other customers and the store manager.

“I want everybody on the floor right now!” One of the men shouted, firing his weapon again to scare everybody into obedience.

Peter dragged Emmeline with him to the floor, making sure she was safely hidden behind one of the display windows that would act as a shied if bullets came their way.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself, pressing her eyes shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” she sang like a litany, taking the full measure of their circumstances. “This is bad.”

“Be quiet,” Peter told her, resting a hand on her shoulder as he slowly sat up on his heels to look through the window and have a peek at what the burglars were doing. One of them held his gun against the manager’s head.

“Can you…?” Emmeline asked him, her voice barely above a whisper so no one else could hear her.

He knew what she meant, but the answer was no. Peter hadn’t brought his suit, and even if he had, he wouldn’t be able to change.

To their right, in the corner of the store, were the other customers, the ones that had screamed to alert them of the robbers’ presence. They could see everything.

Peter looked down, then towards Emmeline, a grave expression on his face as he shook his head. She closed her eyes again and clasped her hand over the one he put on her shoulder.

Emmeline was holding his hand so tight it hurt and her chest rose quickly as her breathing got erratic although she made a visible effort to stay calm and put up a brave face – too bad Peter knew the signs of panic all too well.

“Em,” Peter called her to make her look at him. Her eyes plunge into his and he sees the fear behind her irises. “It’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you, alright? Do you trust me?”

She nodded energetically and exhaled slowly, letting her head drop on his shoulder to show that she did, indeed, trust him with her life. However, as soon as she felt him move, she tensed up.

“Don’t do anything stupid, Peter. You don’t have your suit,” she reminded him.

“What do we have here?” a gruff voice asked, interrupting their hushed conversation.

A tall man dressed in black and wearing a mask that hid the entire lower part of his face emerged from behind the piece of furniture they hid behind. Peter tried to hold her back but she had let him go when her assailant pulled on her hair. Emmeline was dragged back harshly without any caution, letting out a terrified cry. Her hands flew to her scalp and she screamed in pain as the man dragged her on the floor, holding her by the hair.

“Look at this,” he told one of the others.

“What am I supposed to look at? A pretty girl?” he asked, clearly uninterested.

The man who was still holding Emmeline, now crouched down beside her, meeting her tearful and angry eyes. She struggled in his grasp, trying to make him let go and preventing him from taking a good look at her. He only tightened his hold and used his other hand to grab her chin, squeezing harder than necessary, his ugly, grinning face too close for Emmeline’s liking.

“Don’t you recognize her? Her face was all over TV after that poorly executed shooting on Christmas Eve,” he explained, suddenly gaining the attention of his partners.

It was true. Because her parents ran as soon as the situation took a turn left, leaving Emmeline behind, the media deduced the worst had happened. It didn’t help that she walked away from the shooting without telling a soul and headed straight for her apartment and then Peter’s place in Queens. In the end, it was Dexter who told everybody he had seen her well and alive – a good opportunity to appear on live TV.

“Oh, yeah, I know that face now that you mention it! It’s that girl!”

“Mister mayor’s love child, what a coincidence! Not really a child anymore,” the man who held Emmeline drawled out unpleasantly, making her turn her face away from his stinking breath. He allowed her to, having made his point. “Would be a shame if something unfortunate happened to you, don’t you agree princess?”

Peter watched on in horror as Emmeline spat in the man’s face, a scowl on her face, and yelled at him.

“You don’ get to call me ‘princess’, you disgusting piece of shit!”

One had to admire her bravado, although it nearly gave Peter a heart attack when she deliberately provoked the man who so clearly physically overpowered her – and he wasn’t even alone!

He gave her a back-handed slap that echoed in the now mostly empty shop. There were three robbers, Emmeline, Peter, and five other people – four customers, and the store manager who was asked to put all the jewelry in a bag. All four of the other hostages were directly in Peter’s line of sight, which meant they could also see him. He couldn’t simply open his bag and take out his web-shooters for everyone to see.

But when Emmeline landed heavily on the floor in a pained grunt after having been hit by this man, he didn’t think twice and jumped on his feet.

“Stop!” he shouted, getting everyone’s attention. Three guns were now pointed at him, but all he saw was Emmeline looking up at him, faintly shaking her head no to tell him to stop whatever he was doing. Abort mission.

“Get the fuck down!” One of the men told him, taking a step forward without lowering his gun. “Now’s not the time to play hero to impress the girl!”

The one who had dragged Emmeline away from Peter in the first place now grabbed her by the arm to pull her up and onto her feet, holding her at gunpoint.

“If you move, she dies,” he warned Peter.

Peter held his hands up in surrender to show that he wasn’t going to attempt anything. He tried not to linger on Emmeline’s insistent stare and the way she tried to communicate with his through eye contact only. _Stop your nonsense, Peter! This is madness! You don’t have your suit, you’ll get hurt or worse_!

He could almost hear her voice in the back of his head, urging him to stay put, but he couldn’t stand sitting behind that counter while she was being manhandled for being the mayor’s daughter. Truly, Peter’s mild dislike of the man turned into something of a stronger nature every time he was mentioned. 

“I won’t do anything,” he told them, keeping his hands up. “Just let her go, please. If you want to threaten someone, take me instead.”

“No, Pet-!” Emmeline shouted before being silenced with a blow to the back of her head and falling on her knees.

“Don’t hurt her!” Peter asked them, his own panic rising steadily. He couldn’t do much apart from buying the police some extra time to arrive.

He didn’t wait for their green light and simply walked around the counter, hands up, to stand between them and Emmeline’s crouched figure on the floor. One wrong movement and he would be littered with too many bullets to count – or to recover from.

The manager was almost done bagging all of the jewelry, but he was obviously dragging it out to buy some more time, having picked up on what Peter was trying to do. From afar, they could already hear the sirens.

“Fuck, the cops are coming,” one of the men swore, lowering his gun and turning to the manager. “Hurry up if you don’t want a bullet between the eyes!”

He didn’t have much choice but to do as he was being told. Behind Peter, the four other customers whispered between themselves, their voices rising slowly as panic grew. One of them, a man in his thirties, seemed to be particularly shaken up and ready to snap.

Following Peter’s example, probably thinking it was a show of bravery, he stood up, hands in the air, although they were shaking rather badly and he had a frantic look in his eyes.

“Sit down! Sit the fuck down!”

“Don’t play hero, dude! Get on your fucking knees!”

The robbers began to shout at him, not giving him a second to say anything at all. Still on wobbly legs, the man slowly inched towards the front doors, as if he wasn’t being aimed at with deadly weapons.

“I just wanna leave,” he stuttered out when the three men stopped barking orders at him. “You have her, what use am I? Just let me go, please.”

Peter’s sympathy for the man wavered just a bit when he glanced at Emmeline’s crouched figure on the floor as he mentioned ‘her’. He was ready to let them have her if it meant he could get out of a scary situation. He was ten years older than her, trembling in fear while she remained calm and alert. Of course, there had been the initial terror and panic, but being recognized seemed to have helped her to ground herself.

“Sir, stay calm,” she tried to stop him from making a big mistake. “Everything will be fine.”

“How do you know that?! Ugh?!” the man began to lose it and started to freak out properly. “I don’t wanna die here! I just came to turn a bracelet my ex bought me! I don’t wanna die!”

“No one is going to die,” Emmeline stated as slowly and reassuringly as she could. “Return with the other customers.”

The situation was escalating too quickly, Peter didn’t like where it was heading. Emmeline was still on the floor, trying to appease – in vain – a selfish man whose own survival clearly took precedence over everyone else’s. His erratic behavior might even prompt the others to do the same and try to escape.

If this turned into a shooting, Peter wouldn’t have any other choice than to act, at the risk of outing himself.

“Listen to the lady, man. Sit the fuck down, I won’t repeat it another time!” the man who had manhandled Emmeline said, his cutting voice leaving no doubt as to his seriousness.

“You can get away with a robbery, but if you kill a man, your face will be everywhere on the news!” the panicky customer smart mouthed, unaware that he was digging his own grave. “I haven’t seen your faces, I’ll just leave and you’ll never hear of me again!”

Everything happened really quickly then, and it was only thanks to Peter’s supernatural speed that it didn’t turn into a proper disaster. Peter jumped into action when he saw the robber’s hand tighten on his gun, and took the bullet that was meant for the other guy.


	19. Chapter 19

He landed on the floor next to a screaming Emmeline; she fumbled around to try and see where he had been shot but the blood was flowing out, making his sweater stick to his skin.

“No, no, no, no,” she began chanting. “Peter, oh, my God. Peter, what do I do? Tell me what to do, oh, my God…” she rambled on, her eyes searching for something, anything she could use to press onto the wound to stop the bleeding. In the end, she used her own scarf. The silk immediately soaked up the blood. “Peter, talk to me!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” he tried to reassure her, looking at his own side to evaluate the severity of the damage.

Fuck, it hurt. It hurt like a real bitch! He couldn’t let it show though, because Emmeline’s level of panic entirely depended on his.

The other two men began to yell things about this not being part of the plan, that no one was supposed to get shot. The shooter didn’t seem to mind much; in fact, he seemed to be the head of their little squad. The sirens sounded a lot closer already, and they were packing up. The man Peter had taken a bullet for was now huddled in a corner, pants wet.

The police burst through the doors before the last of the men could escape through the back, but Emmeline was too focused on Peter to pay attention to their surroundings at this point.

“Hold on, kid,” a police officer told them. “An ambulance is on its way.”

Peter froze, eyes wide staring into Emmeline’s.

“No, no Em, listen, I can’t go to the hospital!” he told her, sounding like he was the one panicking now that they were mostly out of danger. He tightened his grip on her hand to gain her attention. “I can’t.”

“You have a bullet in your stomach!” she almost shouted back, still very much in shock. “Where else would you have them take you?!”

“Yes, I know! I felt it, thank you very much!” he snapped back, letting her panic get to him too. “It’s not the stomach by the way.”

“It damn well looks like it to me!”

“Listen, I can’t go there. I can’t, do you hear me?”

The paramedics would soon swarm this place to check on the people who had been trapped inside the store during the robbery, and then take Peter into the ambulance. There was no time. Emmeline sensed the urgency in Peter’s voice and leaned in.

“I know I’ve been shot but trust me when I say I cannot go to the hospital!” he whispered in a rapid-fire speech to ensure no one else could hear.

“But you-“

“Please, Em. I need your help for this,” he begged her.

She closed her mouth, lips pinched in a thin line. She needed to think. How were they supposed to get out and away from a crime scene filled with policemen? Their options were pretty limited, but she had to find a way. Peter never asked anything of her, never asked for favors, but this sounded important.

He must have a reason for not wanting to go to the hospital, and she trusted it was more serious than a debilitating fear of needles or doctors.

“Fuck! Alright, let’s do this,” she swore, already helping Peter up while the officer from earlier checked on the other people present, especially the man who had pissed himself and now resumed his panicked behavior.

She hoisted Peter up with a muffled grunt and he bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from groaning in pain as she led it towards the back, where no police car awaited them if their made a quick escape. She felt like she was the criminal fleeing from the crime scene.

“Wait,” she said, making him stop walking so she could grab the coat hanging from the back of a chair in the back office. “You’ll need this to hide the wound.”

Before continuing, she pushed open the emergency exist to check it the back alley wasn’t swarmed in policemen, or worse, the robbers.

“Coast seems clear, but we should hurry. Someone must have noticed our disappearance already. It’s not like a pool of blood on the marble stone will look inconspicuous.”

The walk around the building to a nearby street free of cops wasn’t long, but Emmeline felt as though she had run a marathon when they finally reached an avenue. While holding his coat closed to prevent people from seeing all the blood, Peter and Emmeline went to stand at the road and hailed a cab.

It was a miracle the driver didn’t see the sweat trickling on Peter’s forehead, and his sickly pallor. Emmeline climbed in after him and gave her address. The ride never felt longer.

“Peter,” she whispered, more to make sure he wasn’t fainting on the backseat of the cab than to make actual conversation. “Peter!”

“Mmh?” he hummed, eyes closing lazily. Emmeline smacked him in the head and he sat straighter. “I’m awake, I’m awake!” he told her.

“Peter, we just fled from a crime scene. We’ll get in so much trouble, this was a terrible, horrible, disastrous idea!”

“You know a lot of synonyms,” he chuckled. “Yeah, alright, it’s bad, I know,” he added when he saw her jaw clench. “But it would have been worse if we’d stayed there. I can never go to a hospital, I’d be found out immediately.”

“Why? Do you have six other legs I don’t know about?” Emmeline snapped. “I’m very serious, Peter! What if they think we were a part of this robbery? What if we get arrested?”

She scoffed, not convinced, still shaken up and a little paranoid about being arrested.

“I heal too fast, it won’t be good if I arrived at the ER with a bullet wound that looks weeks old.”

“I know, I know… I’m sorry,” Emmeline sighed, finally seeing her building down the road. “Right now, the idiot you took a bullet for must have told everyone I was there. My face is going to be all over the news in no time, I hate it. Most of all, I hate that you got hurt.”

“I’ll be fine,” he assured her, the grunt that followed not working in his favor. “It’s nobody’s fault, even if I had it with me, I can’t always sneak off to change into my suit. Sometimes I have to improvise. I’m not usually inside the premises when there’s a robbery, this is a bit new.”

“Don’t make me laugh, I’m supposed to be upset,” Emmeline told him, repressing a smile.

Peter grinned boyishly.

“We’re here,” she announced.

She tipped the driver and pulled Peter out of the cab with as much care as possible, still hiding his wound and the blood-soaked sweater underneath the coat she stole.

The cab ride might have given Emmeline the opportunity to calm down a bit, but as soon as they reached her bathroom, and Peter’s coat was discarded, her eyes went wide in alarm upon seeing the sheer amount of blood he had lost.

“You shouldn’t even be conscious anymore!” she exclaimed although she had no notion of how much blood an adult male could lose before losing consciousness. “Tell me truthfully, have you ever had this kind of injury before? Or are you bullshitting me to stop me from freaking the fuck out? Which I am about to do, by the way.”

Emmeline was not believing him when he assured her that it was nothing and she kept saying to herself that this was a mad, reckless idea, and now Peter was going to die in her apartment, and she would have to move out again because of the trauma.

“Okay, okay, I can do this,” she told herself in an attempt to gather her wits. Now wasn’t the time to give in to panic, that was too easy. Peter was badly hurt and he needed her to keep it together. “It still looks really, _really_ bad, Peter.” It was downplaying it, but she tried her best.

He rolled his eyes and sat down on the edge of the bathtub.

“See?” He pulled his sweater up, showing the wound and subsequently making Emmeline go several shades paler. “It’s not as bad as it looks with all the blood,” he promised her.

“What the fuck? What the actual _fuck_?” Emmeline whispered to herself, eyes not darting away from the oozing blood – it was impossible to look anywhere else; it was morbidly fascinating to watch Peter’s body reject the bullet and try to heal the wound at an abnormal speed.

After wiping away the blood that had already dried on his stomach, it did look less like he was going to kick the bucket tonight but it was still a bullet wound and Emmeline was in no way, shape, or form ready to stitch Peter up after this entire traumatic endeavor.

“Look!” He pointed at the entrance hole. “The bullet is already coming out.”

“Oh, my God!” she swore, hiding her face in her hands. This was exactly the kind of freaky stuff she never thought she would see outside of a movie theater in her life. “Why did I look?”

Just as she said this, she opened her eyes to have another peek through her fingers, unable to stop herself. It was like a car crash – she couldn’t stop looking at it. In any other circumstances she might have teased Peter about his abs, but she wasn’t in the mood to ogle him right now.

He pressed his fingers on the skin each side of the wound to push the bullet out, and soon enough it was there. Emmeline didn’t know how she managed not to faint when she saw the bullet come out, making a disgusting sound, and hit the tiling in a clatter of metal, sending droplets of blood on her immaculate floor.

“Hey, hey!” Peter called her name, his hand shooting out to hold her steady. “Stay with me, Em. Where do you keep your first aid kit?”

“A first aid-kit?” she squeaked out and shook her head to shake off her parasite thoughts. Now wasn’t an appropriate time to daydream. “You need a doctor, Peter. I don’t think a Spidey band aid will do the trick.”

He paused to look at her, one eyebrow raised.

“Do you _have_ one?”

“No!” she exclaimed, now giving him an exasperated look. “Beside the point, dumbass! What I mean is you probably need stitches!”

“Some gaze will do, don’t worry. See? The bleeding has stopped, and the wound will be closed by tomorrow. I won’t even have a scar by the end of the week.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am totally serious. Look-“

“No, I’m not looking anymore!”

“Emmeline,” Peter started, using her full name. “Please, just see for yourself.”

His tone had grown much lower, steadier. She didn’t like this in the least but thought she could trust him, and while she did not look forward to taking yet another lingering look at his bullet wound, she complied.

Much to her bafflement, it did look much smaller already. Her mouth opened slightly but she didn’t say anything. In fact, she reached out, fingers stopping only an inch before touching the entry hole.

“It can’t be possible,” she murmured, barely believing her eyes. “It was so… it was… there was so much blood…”

Her shoulders slumped in the faintest of ways, and only Peter, who had spent more time studying her than he would care to admit, would have noticed. She was obviously still upset and emotional because of what happened, but at least seeing with her own eyes that he hadn’t been lying about his fast healing seemed to have put a full stop to her panic.

“No need to worry, Em. I’ll be as good as new in no time, okay?” He took a hold of her wrist and she finally detached her eyes from his stomach to look into his eyes instead. “Better me than the other guy.”

“I’m not sure I agree with that,” she countered, clicking her tongue against the inside of her cheek and crossing her arms over her chest.

She stood up now that the crisis was over. The adrenaline was coming down too.

“He might be dead,” Peter pointed out.

She knew he was trying to appeal to her good nature, but after today’s events, she wasn’t so sure she still had enough of it to care about that cowardly man who put all of them in danger and so easily discarded her life.

“He will be if I ever see him again,” she snapped back. “He’s the reason why you got shot! Sure, I spat in our attacker’s face, but I got my own souvenir for it.”

She pointed at the left side of her face, which was very sore and would no doubt sport a beautiful purple bruise tomorrow morning.

“You could have gotten more backlash for that, you know? I’m sorry I let the situation escalate so much.” Peter stood up, right in Emmeline’s face since she didn’t step back. He was a little taller than her, which always made him smirk a little when he thought about it. “I told you I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. I should have protected you.”

Her expression softened and her arms fell back to her sides.

“And you did, Peter. The second he lifted a hand on me you were there,” she reminded him, but Peter shook his head. He was obviously disappointed in himself, and nothing she could say would make him feel better about what went down. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. Come now, you’re not fully healed yet and I intend to watch over you like a hawk until you are. You need rest.”

“What- no, please, don’t make me,” Peter whined when she began to walked out of the bathroom, holding him by the arm.

“Don’t be difficult!”

He might be serious about his fast healing, and Emmeline might have slowly calmed down when she realized that he was telling the truth and he really wasn’t in danger, but she still felt entitled to fuss over him.

When she ordered him to lie on the bed, Peter refused.

“It’s only half past six, what am I supposed to do in bed?” he argued.

Emmeline didn’t say anything but the devious grin painted on her face spoke for itself and Peter regretted asking as soon as he spotted it.

“Alright,” Peter agreed, electing to put an end to his own misery since he wasn’t going to win this argument. He let his tired body fall onto her bed but just when Emmeline smiled in victory, he pulled her down with him. “But I’m not lying all alone in your bed and staring at the ceiling while you go about your day.”

Emmeline gasped when she fell heavily on him, trying to absorb the shock with her arms but barely managing.

They laid very still, chest to chest on her bed, and she wasn’t pale in the face anymore – not in the least. Peter hadn’t taken the full measure of what he was doing when he pulled her with him, but he wasn’t complaining about the result. Maybe it was the adrenaline speaking, but he thought this was quite an improvement from their usual careful distance.

“Gottcha,” he told her, easing himself on her pillow and wrapping his arms around her to prevent her from getting up. “You’re my hostage now.”

“Oh, too soon,” Emmeline grumbled, yet couldn’t hide the laughter in her eyes when she looked up.

“Sorry. I must be more shaken up than I thought. Maybe you could cuddle me better?” he suggested quite boldly, earning a frank laugh in response but no resistance.

“Alright, you win.” She tapped out and Peter opened his arms. “Let me get my shoes off at least.”

Pretending to think about it, Peter hummed thoughtfully, but Emmeline only swatted his shoulder and sat on the bed to take off her shoes and bits of jewelry that she set aside on her nightstand. She typed something on her phone and then it joined the rest of her items. Just when Peter was about to start whining about her taking too long, she climbed on the bed, taking care to lie on the side he wasn’t hurt.

“Mmh, I feel better already,” Peter hummed and closed his eyes, welcoming Emmeline’s embrace and wrapping his arm around her shoulders when she delicately placed her head on his chest.

It made his heart fluffer like a bird’s wings, feeling her so close. For a moment, however short, the distance between them shrunk to nothing at all. Maybe she could hear his heart beating wildly against his ribcage, and so what?

It might tell her what Peter had failed to do, so far. Maybe she would be able to read his heartbeat like she could a piano sheet – understand it and hear its music. If she rubbed her thumb against his chest on purpose or not was hard to tell, but it soothed Peter. He relaxed enough to slow down his frantic heartbeat and enjoy the appeasing presence of Emmeline, snuggled into his side.

“We still haven’t found May’s birthday present,” Emmeline said after a while, turning her head to prop it up on her other hand and meet Peter’s eyes.

A long groan answered her.

“You’re right,” Peter eventually said. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand. “Almost forgot.”

“Let’s forget about the jewelry,” Emmeline decided, surely done with jewelry stores for a long time now. “We should do something simple – a homecooked dinner, good wine, a bouquet of her favorite flowers… something cozy.”

While Emmeline didn’t know May all that well, she had her in a nutshell when she talked about giving her something simpler but more personal for her birthday. He had only meant for Em to help him choose a gift, but if she offered to come and give a hand, he wasn’t going to turn her down. He had a feeling May really liked her.

“Yeah, sounds nice. But I can’t cook. Do _you_ know how to cook? I’ve never seen you cook.”

“Of course, I know how to cook! I wasn’t counting on _your_ cooking skills to make this dinner happen,” she teased him, sniggering lightly and scrunching up her nose at him.

“That’s what I thought,” Peter laughed too, agreeing with her. “By the way, I was meaning to ask you… why did you spit in the guy’s face earlier? That was a pretty stupid thing to do given the situation.”

The mood shifted just then and Emmeline stirred a little bit until he released her from his hold. She sat up then, facing Peter and but looking mightily embarrassed – a rare occurrence for Emmeline Gerard. A strand of hair fell in front of her face when she lowered her eyes to stare at her hands.

“He called me ‘princess’,” she admitted, eyes looking into her lap.

Peter frowned a little, confusion taking over his features as he pulled himself up and leaned against the bedframe to face Emmeline. Why should she be ashamed to tell him this? He didn’t know what to make of her reaction.

“But I’ve called you ‘princess’ before. You didn’t seem to mind back then,” he pointed out, not understand why she would react so violently for a pet name.

The situation had called for cooperation, not deliberate provocation. Then again, he never called her ‘princess’ as Peter Parker, maybe it was different when Spider-Man did it. Maybe she liked it… This perspective dampened Peter’s mood quite a bit but he tried not to let it show.

“Yes. Exactly,” she quipped, looking up shyly. “_You_ can call me that. No one else.”

Awestruck, Peter remained quiet for a heartbeat too long, probably leading her to think he thought it was an idiotic reason for putting them all in danger. Her stray strand of hair swung in front of her eyes when she looked down into her lap again, and this time he couldn’t help it anymore and reached out. When he tucked it behind her ear, they both froze, realizing their sudden proximity.

Their thighs touched; they couldn’t possibly sit closer to each other unless Emmeline decided to sit on his lap – which Peter would allow with great pleasure. His hand was still on his cheek, he hadn’t withdrawn it, and Emmeline leaned in ever so slowly, almost against her better judgement. The moment seemed to last forever as they both understood what was going to happen if they didn’t snap out of it.

Did they want to snap out of it? Not really. Should they? That was an entirely different matter.

He wanted to touch her so badly – not just her cheek, not just to tuck her hair behind her ear, not just to innocently cuddle her. Peter wanted to hold Emmeline against him and never let go, he wanted to finally know what it felt like to kiss her, and make love to her. Every last cell in his body ached for a kind of intimacy he hadn’t really thought about until she came into his life.

Their foreheads touched and he let out a sharp breath. Could he hear the hammering on her heart from where he was, or was it his own that thrummed loudly in his temples?

Bella’s loud bark followed by her dash across the apartment put a tragic end to the moment they were having, and Emmeline jumped back, getting off the bed and to the door.

“Must be the food I ordered,” she grumbled, obviously not happy about the interruption.

“When did you order food?” Peter asked from the bed, slowly getting up without reopening his wound.

It was just his luck – finally about to take this step with the girl he’s like for months, only to be interrupted in the middle of their moment. By her own dog no less.

“When you decided I should cuddle with you instead of letting me do the cooking,” she chuckled, looking through her judas. Bella was still barking and pawing at the door like mad, until Em shooed her off, telling her to go to Peter.

When the pit came to sit in front of Peter in the kitchen while he took out plates and cutlery, Peter narrowed his eyes at her.

“I thought we were friends!” he whisper-shouted at the dog. “Friends don’t cockblock each other.”

Bella only tilted her head to the right, moving her ears in a curious way. It was dinner time for Bella too, so he filled her bowl with the usual, watching her get excited when he opened the fridge. She wagged her tails and ran around Peter until he set down the bowl and she could start her feast.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” Peter sighed, turning away from the dog.

Better luck next time.


	20. Chapter 20

Their almost-kiss hunted them – in different ways each. There was a hint of regret in their heart. Peter wished he had acted on his urge; maybe if he hadn’t waited for the kiss to just happen, he would finally know what Emmeline’s lips felt like.

Emmeline thought she should have better control of herself and not let her body act without her brain’s consent. What if she hadn’t ordered food and she had kissed Peter? What would have happened to them?

She had wanted to _so badly_, but it didn’t necessarily mean it was a smart idea. Neither of them could stop replaying the scene in their head, both were tortured by their doubts and fears and the pounding of their heart made it nearly impossible to focus and think things through. Should they give in?

They had been there before. Before the events that took place in December, they had crossed that line, ventured, if only for a minute, away from friendship territory and into something else.

During daylight it was much easier. It was easier to push that deep longing to the back of their mind when they were with each other. There were no dark clouds in the sky in these treasured moments of bliss.

In an effort to prolong this fluttery feeling of light-heartedness and warmth, Peter had picked up the habit of stopping by at the end of his rounds each day. Of course, he only made his presence known if she was still up – he wouldn’t wake her up simply because he wanted to say goodnight.

Most days, she waited for him. It helped her sleep better when she knew he was safe and sound, especially since the robbery gone wrong. Peter tried to act annoyed when she worried, but his chest expended at the thought that she cared about him so much. He would let her fuss over him as long as she wanted during his visits. He never stayed long, but those handful of minutes were cherished nonetheless.

He would land in her tiny backyard – the vegetation and sole tree growing there hid most of it from prying eyes, but he was still careful and only moved in the shadows. Normally he simply knocked on her kitchen window and she would open the backdoor for him – Bella would run out and greet him enthusiastically while he tried to walk in without stepping on her paws. If he planned on staying a little longer, Emmeline let him shower and prepared a change of clothes for him.

Really, that should have been the first sign: he had a drawer of clothes at her place in case he stayed longer than intended.

But he didn’t think of that at the time. He simply followed his heart’s desire – and it desired nothing more than to see Emmeline’s smile whenever she heard the familiar knock.

Tonight, he didn’t. Peter’s hand froze right before hitting the glass of her window, and he stared at her in marvel, his breath fogging up the glass and forcing him to move to see better. Emmeline was dancing in her living room – twirling and smiling at Bella who tried to join in – and he couldn’t help but watch on for a short while.

It was slowly getting warmer but the nights were still cold. Emmeline’s dress reached her ankles and had long, cuffed sleeves. He didn’t hear the music but could guess the upbeat tune she was listening to, based on her swift and smooth movements, one hand lifting the hem of her dress as her naked feet barely touched the wooden floor. Even from afar, Peter could tell the material was soft and wanted to touch it, to wrap one arm around her waist and let his hand rest in the small of her back, dancing with her. He didn’t know how to dance, but he would be damned if he didn’t at least try.

If Ned or Mr. Stark knew what kind of silly thoughts crossed his mind whenever Emmeline was around, he would never hear the end of it. However, a little voice in the back of his head told him he wouldn’t care – they could laugh at him if they so pleased, as long as Emmeline didn’t mind.

He finally knocked, and the dancing stopped abruptly. Emmeline’s head whipped around and a beaming smile stretched her lips when she spotted him, nearly blinding him and Peter smiled goofily, waving through the window. She scurried over and unlocked the back door, opening it just enough to peak through. A soft, upbeat tune could be heard in the back, and Peter smiled even wider if it was even possible.

“What’s the password?” she asked him, not yet removing the door chain.

Peter’s shoulders slumped and he squinted his eyes at her.

“Really? Are you going to make me say it?”

Sounding annoyed proved more difficult than expected, because he wasn’t – he simply wasn’t. He was amused, he felt teased and a strange, light flutter in his chest prompted him to play the annoyed card when really, he would have walked on his hands if that’s what it took for her to let him in.

“Oh, _yes_,” she said with a grin.

Peter sighed, rubbed his eyes with his fingers, then looked up, praying he wouldn’t blush this time – he should be used to it, she always made him earn his entry.

“Itsy bitsy spider,” he finally grumbled in the melody of the song.

“You may enter,” she pontificated, removing the chain and opening the door wide, one arm extended to show him in. 

Not wasting another second, Peter walked in and removed his mask, taking a deep breath in and pushing his unruly hair back.

“Feels good to take it off,” he sighed in content before spinning around, arms open. “Do I get a hug?”

Emmeline laughed and scrunched up her nose while locking the door.

“Ask again after your shower,” she told him, patting his shoulder as she walked past a puzzled Peter Parker, looking disgruntled. “I left clean towels and clothes in the bathroom, as usual,” she added with a little smirk.

She extended her hand towards the door near her bed as an invitation for Peter to buzz off. Peter squinted his eyes but headed for the bathroom nonetheless – albeit backwards, not taking his eyes off her. Emmeline crossed her arms over her chest and tried to repress her smile while he glared at her. She eventually waved him goodbye and Peter shut the door behind him.

What a dork. Her dork.

Emmeline blushed at the thought although she was alone with Bella. Her dog sat at her feet, looking up at her, tongue hanging out of her mouth.

“What is it, cutie?” Emmeline knelt down to scratch under her chin. “Hungry? Are you hungry?” Bella barked and tried to lick Emmeline’s face. “But you’ve already had your dinner, no more for you. C’mon, I have to make Peter and I’s dinner now.”

*

When Peter got out of the bathroom, a towel over his hand to dry his hair as best he could, he found Emmeline in the kitchen. A soft song was playing this time, much slower than the music she danced to when he came twenty minutes ago.

She hadn’t seen him yet; she was busy stirring whatever was in the pan on her stove with one hand and drinking a glass of red wine with the other. It smelled _amazing_. A delicious aroma floated around the kitchen, pulling Peter towards her and finally noticing she was swaying her hips along with the music and humming the words to herself.

Part of him was happy just standing back and watching her do her thing, unaware of her audience. Then again, she had promised him a hug after his shower… After another ten seconds, Peter cleared his throat.

Emmeline jumped back when he signaled his presence.

“Fuck, Peter!” She covered her heart with her free hand. “I almost dropped my glass!”

“Is it expensive French Bordeaux wine?” he asked with a chuckle, already reaching for the bottle. “Of course.”

“Only the best for you,” she said.” He raised an eyebrow, lips pinched. “And for me,” she added quickly.

Emmeline was quick to fill a glass for him and held up her own, eyes trained on the dark liquid swirling in her glass. It was difficult not to let her gaze wander towards him – his eyes pulled her in, made her want to look and get lost in them.

“A toast,” she proposed, shaking off her dangerous thoughts. “To an excellent friendship that will hopefully stand the test the time; to the peace you bring to the city; and to Tony Stark, bless him, for designing a suit that does _wonders_ for your ass…”

Peter only rolled his eyes because after so many months of hanging out with Emmeline, he had finally gotten used to her lewd remarks and teasing, but it still very much affected him on the inside.

It might not be much, and perhaps he was grasping at straws, but he took mental note that the girl he liked thought his ass looked good. It was better than nothing, and Peter was… well, he was desperate.

“I’ll ignore what you just said,” he told her.

They cheered and drank their wine, talking and laughing some more while Emmeline busied herself behind the counter, chopping vegetables and chicken, and stirring the onions and the garlic in the pan. He offered to help but she said he had worked enough for one day; she could handle preparing dinner on her own. Slowly, the smell of food filled the entire apartment; Bella began to whine pitifully, as though she hadn’t been fed in days.

“Shush,” Emmeline said, sending Bella back to her bed. “It’s not for you, you’re too greedy!”

“Her last meal was hours ago,” Peter defended her.

“Don’t side with her!” Emmeline pointed at him with her wooden spoon. “We’re eating late because I waited for you to finish your patrol. Do you know how hungry I am? I should be the one crying for food.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Peter said with a laugh, not sounding particularly sorry. “I appreciate it, I really do. Are you sure I can’t do anything though? Let me at least set the table.”

“If you insist,” she relented. She didn’t need to tell him where things were, he knew his way around her kitchen as if it were his own. “There’s nothing else to do anyway. Now we wait, and stir occasionally.”

“You spoil me.”

“I don’t trust you to do the cooking, more like.” Peter gasped and clasped a hand over his heart. “Truth hurts?”

“A little, actually,” he confessed, setting the plates on her table.

Emmeline turned her back to the stove and let the food cook, turning her attention back to the wine. She played with the foot of her glass, letting it dance on the counter. Before she noticed, she was humming again, and decided to turn up the music.

“Leave that alone,” she told Peter when she twirled towards him. He blinked and dropped the cutlery on the table, eyes darted on her open palm. Emmeline smiled and took another swing of wine, holding the glass close to her in order not to spill any of her beverage. “Are you going to let a girl dance alone?”

Like hell he was.

Her smile when he took her hand was worth the humiliation of showing his less than stellar dance moves. Emmeline downed her wine and set the empty glass on the counter to take a hold of Peter’s shoulders.

“I suck at this, be indulgent with me,” he asked her, receiving an all but blinding smile in return.

He only had a vague idea of what to do with his feet and hands.

“It’s alright, don’t think about it too much,” she instructed, placing one of his hands in the small of her back and taking the other in hers, holding them at shoulder-level. “Dancing is about letting your body move on its own accord. Listen to the music, let it guide you. It’s not a cerebral activity, although I know you love those,” she teased while giving him advice.

Peter was so focused on not making a fool of himself that he didn’t register her joke. His brows were frowned and his eyes focused on his feet.

Emmeline’s laugh was what made him look up again. The hand that rested on his shoulder grabbed his chin, forcing him to meet her sparkling eyes.

“Don’t take it so seriously, Peter,” she advised him. “Follow my rhythm, let it lull you.”

He could tell she was guiding him, though he had no idea how. He simply went where she wanted, miraculously avoiding stepping on her toes or tripping on his own feet. Somehow, she knew exactly what to do or how to move for Peter to follow the dance.

She kept it simple and slow, like the song they were listening to. Slowly, she brought him closer and when the tempo slowed even more, she all but stopped dancing. Peter’s heart was in a frenzy, as if trying to beat its way out of his chest when Emmeline lay her head on his shoulder, her breath tickling his neck before the changed sides.

Peter let his cheek rest against the back of her head, hoping she couldn’t hear the mad rush of his heart. Were his palms damp? God, he hoped she didn’t notice that either.

He remembered the fiasco that was his first prom, he remembered how nervous he was – he had asked May to help pick a suit, teach him the slow dance and the Windsor knot. Still, he hadn’t been that nervous. He hadn’t felt like he was walking in sand, heart beating so hard he could barely hear the music.

Every passing day he wondered how she didn’t realize how wrapped he was around her finger. Didn’t see the lingering stare, the longing in his eyes? She must have noticed that he came more and more often, that seeing her was the highlight of his day? That he couldn’t even imagine a life without her anymore?

How could he be so completely, so unequivocally in love with a girl and not be found out?

Emmeline turned her head again, her nose dragging along his jaw now, sending shivers down his spine in spite of how hot he felt. Their bodies swayed gently to the long-forgotten tune, unable to pull apart and unwilling to. Emmeline’s left hand clung to Peter’s shoulder while the other still held his hand. Eventually, she slipped it out and placed it on his neck, her thumb wandering up and stroking his cheek.

His heart stuttered but he tried to not let it show. His free hand found its place on her hip. Maybe he should take dancing lessons.

The very air about them had changed now, shifting from innocent to something… else. What was a harmless activity between two close friends suddenly charged the air with tension and undertones of longing.

If he wasn’t careful, he would throw aside caution and give in to the ever-present urge to kiss her. Oh, how he wanted to kiss her! He has been wondering what it would feel like, what she would taste like, how she would answer…

With her head upright again, Emmeline had never been closer to Peter. They were both highly aware of their proximity now, though unable to take but a step back, as if having so much as an inch between them would kill them both.

Peter’s cheek was in contact with her forehead until she looked up. He gulped down, uncertain about what he saw in her eyes – afraid to guess at the risk of being disappointed.

Her big dark eyes swallowed him, the reflection of the ceiling light making them glow – like the moon shining on a seemingly bottomless pond. He didn’t know what possessed him, he had no idea what he was doing, but Peter closed his eyes then.

He was letting his body and his emotions take over, just like she had told him to, and he didn’t _think_.

Neither did she.

Although it was quick, the scene seemed slow to them both, time got suspended for the briefest moment. It lasted only a heartbeat – Emmeline leaned towards Peter and closed her eyes like he had. They never meant to kiss, it wasn’t a conscious decision – it was their bodies acting on a deep secret wish they both shared, unbeknownst to each other.

Emmeline’s hand was locked in Peter’s damp hair when the stove alarm started to beep, signaling that the vegetables were cooked. She pulled back immediately, eyes wide in horror at the realization of what she had just done.

She cursed under her breath and stepped back, biting down on her lips, eyes tightly shut. Peter knew regret when he saw it.

“Sorry, I…. that was a mistake.” Ouch. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

It was time to lay off the drinking and maybe she would get down her high. She should never had let it go that far; it wasn’t her intention at all… Now what would Peter think of her? As far as she knew, she might have ruined their already precarious friendship. They got along like soul mates, but the feeling of unsteadiness never went away – be it because of Peter’s secret… or because they couldn’t shake off the tension between them.

“The music and the wine must have gotten to me, I don’t know why I did that…” she felt the need to justify her actions to him, making him ten times worse.

Peter’s heart sunk a little further down with each word she uttered but he put up a strong face and didn’t show just how crushed he was that she kissed him only to call it a mistake the following second.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” He tried to laugh it off but the sound came out stiff and bitter. “C’mon, let me help now.”

He didn’t wait for an answer before returning to the stove and stirring the content of the pan. Maybe he could blame it on the sizzling onions if his eyes watered up.


	21. Chapter 21

The mood on the quinjet after their mission was sullen at best. Everyone stared at Peter while trying really hard to mind their own business, only sending conspicuous looks his way. Natasha sat the farthest away, wringing her hands; Bucky was piloting – he rarely did but today he volunteered; Sam pretended to sleep next to him; everybody tried to give him privacy though he knew he had none.

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” Tony shouted for the tenth time. He was sitting across from Peter, fuming, eyes crazy. “What the hell were you thinking back then?”

“I wasn’t,” Peter mumbled pitifully, eyes darted on his mask between his hands.

His face stung and his ears rang – couldn’t the scolding wait a little? Three more hours until home.

“Oh yes, we all saw that!” Tony burst out. “I mean, what could possibly be more important than the current mission, I wonder. Thinking about your grocery list? If You die, it’s on me, kid! Can you imagine how May would react? And Em-“

“I get it, alright?!” Peter snapped all of a sudden, looking up before letting out a scoff. “I messed up! Can we move on now?”

There was a minute of tense silence during which Tony seriously considered flying across the quinjet to strangle Peter – but what would he tell May, _then_?

“This isn’t over,” he warned him.

Peter simply sighed, happy enough that the conversation was over _for today_.

He knew he had made a mistake, he was the only person to blame in what happened that day. However, he wasn’t the only person bearing responsibility if something bad happened to him. Tony had vouched for Peter, he considered him family.

There was no apology strong enough to erase what he did. Or rather, what he didn’t do. For days now, Peter’s brain kept jumping back to the catastrophe of a kiss he shared with Emmeline, even in the worst of moments. Not on purpose; not in an effort to analyze what happened and find where he messed up. No, it was plain self-torture at this point.

His cheekbone throbbed like hell, his entire face felt tender and swollen. He had initially planned on staying at the compound until he was healed because he couldn’t reasonably go to class looking like he had been trampled by an elephant, and going to May’s was asking for a second round of what just occurred with Tony. Now, he wasn’t so sure he would be welcomed to stay.

Then, of course, was Emmeline. He wished he had someone else to turn to but staying in Ned’s tiny dorm room for days didn’t sound too thrilling. What was more: Tessa was with her. He had asked her to look after his dog while he was away on his mission.

She hadn’t even asked where he was going, or for how long… She simply trusted him to come back. And he would have to own up to the consequences of his carelessness.

The engine landed sooner than expected, but the familiar weightlessness accompanying the landing woke Peter from his daydreaming. Or was it the evening already? He didn’t know.

“You staying with us tonight, Spandex?” Sam asked him, slapping Peter on the back and earning a cough along with a semi-grateful glare.

“I’m sure he has better things to do than hang out with us oldies,” Tony intervened – his way of uninviting Peter after Sam’s offer. His tone was still sharp and cold.

“I promised Em I would go and see her when I come back,” Peter told Tony. “She likes to make sure I’m fine when I return from a mission.”

He wasn’t looking forward to it – it truth, he had been avoiding Emmeline and he feared she had noticed because if she had, she wouldn’t stay quiet about it, that was for sure. What was more: he deserved whatever was coming his way. He could have talked to her, told her he didn’t think kissing her was a mistake. Instead, he ran, tail between his legs.

“Be prepared to receive another earful then,” Tony warned him. Peter looked exactly like someone who had been beat like a meat sack by the Terminator - and it was by and large a good description of what actually happened. “Maybe _she_ will talk some sense into you.”

*

Peter had been gone for four days now, and the lab was a quiet place without his uplifting presence, or Tony Stark’s classic rock music. In fact, most of the Avengers still in residence had gone with them and her sole company was F.R.I.D.A.Y who humored her and conversed with her when she wanted to.

But apparently, there was someone else. Emmeline had been standing on a ladder, working on Tony’s current project – she had no idea what it was for but it was big and he tasked her with a few minor adjustments to do while he was away. When the elevator doors opened, she almost fell while twisting her neck to see who just came in.

“Hello? Somebody here?” the woman’s voice called.

Emmeline climbed down and turned off her music – in truth, she wouldn’t have listened to this if she thought someone else was around. But Emmeline had been thinking too long too hard on something and needed to drown out her thoughts for a while.

“Ah, finally!” she exclaimed. “Thought I’d go deaf.”

With a wince, Emmeline emerged from behind the appliance, wiping her greasy hands on a towel. She swallowed thickly when she realized her visitor was Scarlet Witch, although she didn’t wear her usual gear.

“Sorry about that,” Em apologized, too embarrassed to even meet her eyes. “I thought I was alone.”

She seemed surprised to see her too.

“I know you,” she stated, staring her down. “You’re Peter’s friend.”

It wasn’t a question, and the way she said ‘friend’ implied she meant something else entirely but Emmeline didn’t correct her the way she would have Tony. If she was being honest, she was in dire need of a girl talk, and at this point, any girl would do.

“And you’re Wanda Maximoff,” Em replied. 

She smiled in a rather enigmatic way.

“Working alone on a Saturday afternoon? Blasting black metal? Someone’s keeping busy,” she commented.

Emmeline let out a small huff, feeling as though she had been shot with an arrow right in the chest. She aimed good.

“Maybe.”

She shrugged. If Peter were here, he would give her that smile that meant he wasn’t fool by her attempt at sounding casual. But Peter wasn’t there. Peter hadn’t really been there, even before leaving for the mission, because Peter had been too busy avoiding her since she kissed him.

Wanda nodded and put her hands in the pockets of her hoodie, biting the corner of her mouth as if pondering something.

“Wanna let out some steam? I was just training at the gym but it’s not great alone,” she offered, much to Emmeline’s surprise. “And you look like you need to punch something… or someone.”

Em’s eyebrows shot up but she was quick to toss her towel aside and accept the generous proposition.

“I don’t have super strength though. Or gym clothes.”

Wanda shrugged and even Emmeline had to admit she did a much better job at looking casual than she did.

“Me neither. I do, however, have gym clothes.”

Wanda then turned on her heels and walked to the elevator, quickly followed by Emmeline. She had never seen the rest of the Tower. Peter sometimes trained there, or slept there, but he never asked her to come up with him. Maybe he thought she wasn’t interested in seeing the Avengers’ gym – not entire untrue – or the contents of their fridge. Or maybe he didn’t want her there.

No, she couldn’t allow her thoughts to go there. This wasn’t like Peter, to keep her away from some parts of his life. He had been more than open and willing to answer all of her questions and demands since she discovered he was Spider-Man.

Wanda Maximoff wasn’t much older than Emmeline because she had been dusted too. Of course, Peter was still by and large the youngest Avenger, but she couldn’t be more than in her late twenties. And she was Emmeline’s size.

Wearing someone else’s leggings and sports bra was a weird experience in and of itself. They decided they would spar together, leaving the shoes aside since Emmeline couldn’t fit in Wanda’s.

“I don’t know anything about sparring. My last time in a gym goes way back already,” she warned the young woman standing across the mat. “You’ll have to guide me.”

“Sure thing, we’ll cover the basics,” she agreed.

Emmeline couldn’t remember the last time she got her ass handed to her like that.

*

Four more days passed without any sign of life from Peter. If Wanda didn’t keep Emmeline up to date on their status, she would have gone mad with worry.

Between classes, walking Tessa and Bella, working at the lab, and letting Wanda wipe the floor with her ass, Emmeline was kept quite busy and didn’t complain. While it had been a tough first session at the gym, she was a quick learner with good reflexes – which she got from all the activities she used to do when she was younger. Who would have thought fencing made her this good at dodging out of the way when someone attacked her?

“I have never seen anyone so enthusiastic about getting beat up,” Wanda commented while tightening her headlock, waiting for Emmeline to tap out. She did.

“I have never dealt with someone so happy to indulge,” she replied with a smirk.

Neither of them would admit to it, but it was rather nice and refreshing to be around another girl about the same age – even if their conversations were usually wordless.

Usually, but not always. It didn’t take long for Wanda to start teasing Emmeline the same way Tony sometimes did.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re throwing yourself into all these activities to keep your mind off of something…”

Emmeline rolled her eyes, electing not to answer in hope that the topic would be dropped, but that wasn’t going to happen.

“He’ll be back soon, you know? Can’t avoid him forever,” she told the younger girl, letting her attack first this time.

She lunged forward but Wanda ducked before she could hit her.

“He’s the one avoiding me,” Em said without thinking. Fuck, she had just admitted to being obsessed by Peter Parker to the point of restlessness. Then again, she had been in need of a girl talk. “I’m just the idiot letting it get to me.”

This time when she attacked, she feigned to aim at her side before going for her legs, effectively sweeping Wanda off her feet.

“Do something about it, then. The kid’s great but he’s helpless when it comes to girls,” Wanda told her when Em helped her up.

Her face fell.

“Girls?” she repeated. She recognized and loathed the feeling creeping up her spine at the thought of other girls.

“Relax. They’re in the past. I can assure you that to him, there are no other girls than you in the world,” Wanda laughed, using Emmeline’s moment of distraction against her and side-kicking her.

“You’re trying to throw me off my game with your girl talk,” she accused her, glaring up from the floor.

She brought her own gym clothes now, and even had a locker. There was something comforting about having been invited here by someone other than Peter too. She had been accepted by another member of the team.

The Scarlet Witch was surprisingly ordinary when you took the time to look past the glowing red eyes. When she didn’t use her powers, she was much like Emmeline – no super-strength, no vibranium arm, no special training in hand to hand combat.

“When are you going to tell him how you feel?” she asked her, watching the red tint her cheeks as she flinched.

It was time for defense training, the beating up part was over with – perhaps for the best. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Emmeline chose denial although there was no reason to.

She had just admitted to thinking about Peter all the time and being jealous of the sheer thought of ‘other girls’ being in the picture. 

“Peter clearly fell head over heels for you. I had my doubts about you before, but now I think it might be reciprocated. He’s caught your attention, admit it.“ He’s caught way more than that but Emmeline sure as hell wasn’t going to correct her. "You should do something about it.”

“I can’t do that.” Emmeline’s hands were retrained behind her back, making her feel almost as helpless as she felt when thinking about Peter. “And he’s not in love with me.”

The sigh she then let out was deep enough for Wanda to understand that something had already happened between them - something Em visibly regretted and which sent Peter right into a pity party if his out-of-character behavior was anything to go by.

“If you wait for him to make a move, you’ll be gray by the time it happens,” Wanda advised her without answering her stubborn denial of Peter’s feelings. Even a blind man would see it.

“Why would he want to make a move in the first place? We’re just friends.”

There it was - that sentence. It rang untrue, even to her who spoke it. She was obstinate, to say the least.

“Right.” The way Wanda’s voice snapped was clear: she thought Emmeline was full of shit. And what was worse was that she was right.

When Emmeline eventually freed her wrists from Wanda grip, the older woman must have decided she was done with Em’s uncooperative behavior and called it a day. She didn’t know what exactly it was she said, but Emmeline sensed that she had done something to upset her.

“You know-“ Wanda started, a glimmer of something new and foreign in her eyes as she looked at Emmeline. “Being scared is alright. I was scared to allow someone in, too. I was scared that they would be taken away from me.”

Her fists opened and she stretched her fingers, trying to push back the painful memories as Emmeline listened intently. Just by the way her face contorted slightly, Em could tell her fears became reality.

“You think you have all the time in the world with the people you love, but you don’t. I wish I had acted on my feelings sooner, I wish I had had more time with…” Her voice died there, and it seemed she wasn’t going to finish her sentence – not that she needed to.

“I’m sorry,” Emmeline sympathized. “I suppose my childish problems don’t compare to what you’ve been through. I should have watched my tongue.”

“No, Em. If you mean what you’re saying, then you should stop running away from your own heart. Peter is a good person, and I know he’s crazy about you.”

These words added weight to Emmeline’s heart. It was like carrying a stone in her chest. She wished she could do as Wanda said, she wished she knew how to let people in.

“Maybe I’m not a good person,” she argued, shrugging.

A soft smile replaced Wanda’s sour frown.

“Give yourself a chance.” The tension then lifted from the air and it seemed as though their conversation had come to an end. Wanda grabbed a towel and threw another to Emmeline. “And don’t tell him I told you that by the way.”

Despite being covered in sweat, a shiver ran down Em’s spine and her hairs stood on end the second Wanda walked into the locker room to take a shower. She scurried off, deciding to go home and take a shower there.

Wanda’s words were burned in her mind, impossible to get rid off. From there, her mind jumped to the kiss she gave Peter and how she rejected him immediately afterwards, without giving him a chance to do or say anything.

She had been the one initiating the kiss and the one to put an end to it. Where was he in this? She should have cared more about what _he_ wanted. Did he want her to kiss him? Did he want her to stop? She didn’t know and suddenly she felt awful for not having wondered before. He had been terribly busy lately – had she imagined that he was avoiding her? It slowly made sense now; the way he didn’t meet her eyes, his patrols lasting longer than usual.

Fuck.


	22. Chapter 22

Whenever he dropped by, Peter used Em’s back door. It had become a habit, like a secret passageway into her place; one no one else but him could use. So when Emmeline heard knocking on her door even though she didn’t expect anyone, it intrigued her. She was even more intrigued when she peeked through the judas and saw Peter’s familiar form – he wore his hood up but she would recognize him anywhere.

A handful of seconds ticked by while Emmeline took a deep breath, eyes closed. It was now or never. Peter had come back from his mission, she needed to sort herself out and listen to Wanda’s advice. Being honest about her feelings would make her feel better about herself, regardless of Peter’s reaction. She owed him an apology too, for the way she reacted after their kiss, so that perhaps he would stop avoiding her because she hated it and she missed him.

Before she could grow any more anxious, Emmeline swung the door open, smiling big and bright to greet Peter.

“Peter, hi! I didn’t expect-“

The second she saw what state he was in, she fell in silent shock. Peter was wearing his grey sweatpants and a big NYC hoodie with the hood up to hide his bruises. He stared at something behind her instead of meeting her eyes, a slight tremor in his left leg as if he were too restless to stay still.

Seeing her smile evaporate as soon as she assessed his current state stung a little. The side of his face throbbed painfully and he thought he might get a headache before the night was over.

“I just want to let you know I came home and I’m fine.” His voice came out flat, emotionless – the only way he knew to talk without breaking down in front of her. “I know it’s late but you said you wanted to know as soon as I was back. I can take Tess off your hands now, if you-“

He continued to sputter out some more bullshit small talk and spoke fast and erratically, but Emmeline didn’t listen anymore. Her eyes were darted on his swollen cheekbone, his black eye, his usually unruly eyebrow now matted with blood because of a gash above his eye; the list went on and everything wasn’t even on display.

Peter couldn’t meet her insistent stare. He wanted to leave again, not have to be yelled at a second time for his carelessness. Besides, he simply did not have the courage or the energy to face the girl he liked and who so blatantly rejected him a mere fortnight ago.

“Peter, what even…” Her voice died down and she opened the door wider, inviting him in. Peter didn’t move. “You leave for two whole weeks and come back looking like you went to hell and back!”

He shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at his feet. There wasn’t anything he could say that would make it better. He had fucked up, there was no arguing against that.

“Where’s Tess?” he asked, desperate to change the subject.

“She’s in the backyard with Bella,” Emmeline said, pointing behind her without detaching her gaze from him. “Come inside, let me take a look at your face.”

Peter took a firmer stand on his feet, as if he could dig his heels into the concrete of her front stairs, determined not to go inside. If he entered, he knew he was fucked. If Em so much as touched him…

“Someone already examined me, I’m fine.” He dismissed her worries with a shrug and Emmeline’s shoulders slumped. “I’m just here for Tessa. Thank you for watching her while I was away.”

“Tessa is no bother, I can watch her a bit longer if you need to rest,” Emmeline offered, now leaning against her door frame, trying to assess Peter.

Something was off about him, and she thought she might know what. Peter had never been so… closed off. The problem wasn’t Tessa - it was her.

“You’re mad at me.” A statement, not a question. She would have to be extraordinarily oblivious to miss it too, especially after what Wanda and her talked about – well, talking was a bit far-fetched, Wanda talked, Emmeline got her ass kicked while reluctantly listening.

“No, I’m not-“ he began, ready to deny her accusation and finally looking up from his shoes.

“Don’t lie, we both know you’re no good at it. I know you’re mad. It’s alright, would be too.” He blinked in slight confusion, not following. They were still standing on her porch, under the flickering light above her door. “It was wrong of me to react the way I did, especially since I was the one-“

“Please, don’t say it,” Peter cut her off, rubbing his sore face with both hands and turning around to face away from her. “I’m really in no state to hear you tell me again how wrong it was to kiss me. Once was enough.”

“I wasn’t-“

“I know you weren’t thinking and the wine got to you,” he said, refusing to let her say another word about this. Couldn’t she see how painful it was? Couldn’t she see the depth of his feelings for her? “I’m gonna go now. I’ll stop by tomorrow to get Tessa.”

“Peter, stop!”

She had to run after him barefoot – Peter had already reached the front gate when she caught up, swiftly running in front of him to place a hand on his chest, stopping him from leaving.

“If you would please listen to me!” she scoffed now, annoyance clear on her face. “I’m trying to tell you that it wasn’t a mistake!”

A pregnant pause followed her statement. Neither of them said a word, only their heavy breathing broke the quiet between them – Emmeline’s hand was still pressed to his chest when Peter finally processed her words and a timid, lazy grin broke his sullen expression.

She felt him press closer to her hand when he took a step forward. The frantic thrumming of his heart made her fingers tingle.

“It sure felt like it when you pushed me away,” he told her, seeing her flinch in response.

It just came out. He couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out of his mouth, even though he knew there were mean, and petty, and she didn’t deserve this.

Although, Emmeline wasn’t so easily discouraged and the fierce look returned to her eyes before Peter could further reflect on his own idiocy.

"In January, I told you how I felt. I told you I liked you, Peter-“

"Then why do you regret kissing me?" he snapped.

There it was: the dreaded question. Peter had been too scared to ask it and Emmeline had been scared he would. Her hand fell to her side again, leaving his chest cold where it rested.

"Will you please come inside so we can continue this conversation in private?"

Hesitation flickered through his eyes – in fact, his entire body tenses up as if crossing the threshold to her apartment meant his doom. Emmeline couldn’t have missed it even if she had tried. Her feet were getting cold and pebbles hurt her soles but she wasn’t going to let him go home without finishing this conversation, even if it meant doing it in the middle of the street.

“I don't regret it,” she articulated slowly to get her point across. “I wish it had happened differently but I don't regret doing it. The thing is, I've put so much effort into keeping a semblance of distance between us, into behaving myself around you, that when I realized what I was doing I panicked.”

"This doesn't make sense,” Peter huffed and shook his head. He began to push past her to get to the iron fence door. "Why would you need to put distance between us if you like me?"

"It _does_ make sense, Peter! Try and see things from my perspective for a second!"

He stopped again, hand on the door handle. She didn't say another word until he let his hand drop to his side again.

"Tell me then."

"You- you lied to me, Peter.” Her voice cracked just a little but Peter heard it clear as day. He hated being the reason why she was upset. “I know you had your reasons but it doesn't change the fact that you did. I couldn't let myself fall for someone who hid things from me. I couldn't dive head first into a relationship where trust was absent. And I'm not exactly the savviest relationship expert around if you haven't noticed, I don't know what I'm doing. I have no idea what to do when I'm around you."

It was the last thing Peter expected to hear, though he knew it was the truth. It had to be. Emmeline was a great many things, but not a liar, not a manipulator. She could appear strong and confident, fool those who didn’t know any better than to take her at face value.

Peter knew better; he knew her. He knew she didn’t like to show her weak spots, that she built walls around her so the world couldn’t see how vulnerable she really was – she didn’t just admit to being clueless or inexperienced without a good reason for it, and especially not to someone she didn’t trust.

"I know my own insecurities played a part in this too, and I'm sorry. But don't leave now, please."

When he didn’t reply immediately, Emmeline continued.

“There’s still time to fix whatever’s broken between us. Give me a second chance, Peter.”

Fuck. Fuck everything. Peter looked up towards the streetlamp, if only to gather himself because if he stared one more second into Emmeline’s eyes he would break for sure. His eyes stung a little and he forced the tears down, biting on his lower lip.

Maybe he wouldn’t be this emotional if he hadn’t just returned from a mission he might not have come back from at all. Maybe he would be less inclined to have a breakdown in front of Emmeline if he wasn’t so sore and sleep deprived, and hadn’t been yelled at all the way from Europe to New York by Mr. Stark, or maybe…

Emmeline took his hands in hers, breaking Peter out of his loop of thoughts. They were cold.

Just like that Peter finally realized they had been standing outside late at night and Emmeline was barefoot and she was so cold – but she hadn’t said anything.

“You need to go back inside,” he eventually said. A sigh escaped his lips; Peter looked down, still unsure if he could hold her stare.

“Only if you come with me,” Em replied, tugging at his hands.

Why did she have to be so stubborn? Why did she have to be so welcoming and _delightfully_ stubborn? The sheer touch of her hands, as cold as they might be, was a promise of comfort and of something bright and beautiful, that Peter knew awaited him behind her door.

In a last attempt to turn around this disaster of a conversation, Peter let out a bit of Spider-Man and opted for humor, if only to bring out a smile on Emmeline’s face.

“Alright. Can’t let you freeze to death now, after saving your life so many times,” he conceded, his heart soaring at the sight of her gleeful, stunning smile.

No wonder he took it so hard when she pushed him back – he was in love with her.


	23. Chapter 23

The inside was exactly how he imagined it would be: basking in dim light, background music playing, smelling like Em’s favorite lavender candle. Being enveloped in this soft atmosphere made Peter’s knees go weak, his entire body yearned for rest and some peace. He knew he could find it here, even if Emmeline and him had been on bad terms, he knew he would have found a safe haven here.

“What is it?” she asked after closing the door behind her and locking it. He felt her hand press against his bicep. Peter pushed down his hood now that they were inside. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he croaked out, his voice having suddenly failed him. Peter gulped down. “I’m fine.”

Not very convincing according to the squint of her eyes, but she let it slide. Peter wanted to tell her – he wanted to tell her everything about everything: how he felt, what it did to him, how the mission went, how Mr. Stark was mad at him, how much he missed her, how glad he is to see her. But nothing came out.

Enthusiastic barks came from behind the kitchen door, so Emmeline went to open it and the second the opening allowed it, both Bella and Tessa barged in and ran towards Peter to greet him properly. Emmeline wasn’t the only one who had missed him dearly after all. The two pitbulls ran around him to the point of dizziness while Peter tried to pet them both with relative success.

“It’s good to see you two,” he told them, kneeling down to be at their level and getting his face licked in the process.

“Peter…” Emmeline began to speak without thinking much about it. When he looked up with expected eyes, hands still patting their dogs’ head, Emmeline’s heart stuttered. “It’s good to have you back. I know you weren’t away for long bu-“

She was cut off when Peter closed the distance between them and pulled her to his chest, engulfing her in a hug. His strong arms wrapped around her shoulders warmed her up from the inside, making her forget how cold she’d become from standing outside barefoot.

“It’s good to be home,” Peter said against her temple, placing a kiss in her head.

Emmeline exhaled a shaky sigh and let her head drop against his shoulder, her arms securely wrapped around his middle as she breathed in his scent.

“What happened on your mission, Peter?” she eventually asked, when she was no longer overcome with too much emotion to speak.

Eyes still tightly shut, Peter took a deep breath before answering. She never once interrupted him when he began the retelling of how he messed up and ended up hurt by his own damn fault. They sat on the couch where Bella and Tessa joined them, sitting by their respective own’s feet.

Exhausted as he was, Peter was slouched on the couch while Emmeline sat by his side, one leg tucked under her, and listened carefully. They both tried not to think about their legs touching or let their minds drift from the conversation.

“Don’t think for a second that I blame you for this, it’s not your fault if I was distracted,” Peter immediately told her when Em opened her mouth.

He knew she would react like this if he told her what happened, but keeping it from her wasn’t really an option now. The only option Peter would consider from now on, was being honest. She didn’t like having the rub pulled from under her feet like this, but Peter wasn’t sorry. It wasn’t her fault, and that was that on that.

“It is a little bit,” she argued, tilting her head. “I mean, there were a thousand different and better ways to handle the situation and I chose to flat out reject you.”

“Can you stop saying this out loud? It kinda stings hearing it,” Peter winced a little, making her smile and roll her eyes.

“Still, I’m sorry. I feel at least partly responsible. I hope Tony forgives you soon, I wouldn’t want to be the reason why your relationship deteriorated.”

“He’ll get over it. If there’s one thing I learned since he recruited me in high school, it’s that no matter what I do wrong, he’s done worse before.”

“That sounds about right.” Em nodded her head, biting her lip thoughtfully. “Hey, I just want you to know that I only did it because I thought I’d crossed a line. I- I slipped up and kissed you, and I didn’t know what it meant…”

“It’s alright, Em. No real harm has been done. Let’s not talk about it anymore, yeah? We can move on together-“ A sudden blush crept up his neck and to his face. “I- I mean, if yo-“

“I’d like that,” she interrupted him. He gave her a grateful smile for cutting him off before he could embarrass himself. “Now on to the no-fun part – I’ll have a look at your face.”

Peter groaned but recognized a losing battle when he saw one. Emmeline stood up in a whirl of skirts to get the first-aid kit (which she was very happy to have bought, because Peter had already broken it in a few times) before coming back and getting to work.

“I haven’t told May that I’m back yet,” he informed her in between winces while she dabbed alcohol-soaked gauze onto his wounds. If they had been inflicted by normal weapons, they’d have closed by now but Peter was particularly exhausted, physically and mentally, and his adversary had been as alien as could be.

“She’ll get worried if you don’t call her,” Emmeline hummed, gently removing the dried blood from his face.

“She’ll get worried if she finds out I’m hurt,” he countered. “I was going to go and see her once I’m all healed.”

“Where were you going to stay then? The Tower?”

This time it wasn’t the sting of the alcohol that made Peter wince.

“I don’t think so. Mr. Stark is pretty mad at me for not being careful enough, he made it clear that I should crash somewhere els- shit that one hurt!”

Peter bit on his lip until the sting and faint throbbing calmed down. He needed sleep more than anything else, he couldn’t wait to close his eyes. Bu he would let Em patch him up first if he appeased her, and he would give her the answers she sought.

"I promised I would come see you the second I landed,” he simply said, stating the obvious. She stilled, hand son her lap. Was she done? “But I suppose I was unconsciously seeking refuge for the night. In spite of… everything.”

She didn’t say anything at first, she only put everything back into the box and stored in under the coffee table, obviously finished with treating Peter’s wounds. He had stopped breathing altogether now, waiting for her answer in anxiety.

“Did you ever doubt I’d let you stay?” she eventually asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“You would have been in your own right to do so,” he said, not answering in earnest because _yes_, he thought she might.

The veil of her hair hid the slight smile painted on her face when she told him, “you’re an idiot, Peter Parker.”

*

Next day day, Peter woke up earlier than he would have liked because something wet stuck to his face. He scrunched up his nose and tried to swat it away but it came back, now leaving a trail of wet on his chin.

He groaned, flipping around to turn his back to whatever was trying to wake him up. He didn’t know what time it was but his body told him too early. It was extra-tired from having to heal.

But then, the wet was replaced with a nudge to his back, along with a sad whine.

“Tessa, not now,” he mumbled, still half asleep.

“Wrong dog!” A voice answered his weak protest, making him snap one eye open and take in his surroundings.

This wasn’t his dorm room, nor was it May’s apartment or the Tower. Slowly emerging from his deep sleep, Peter sat up on a couch that was familiar. He had fallen asleep on Em’s couch last night – likely during their conversation. There was a blanket draped over him too, so she must have tucked him in; this brought a blush to his face.

“Hello you,” she greeted him with a blinding smile from the other side of the apartment.

She had purposely left half of the room in the dark so he could sleep some more while she got ready and prepared breakfast.

“’ello,” Peter returned the greeting with a yawn and rubbed his eyes to see clear. “What time is it?” His mouth was dry – unlike his face that had been thoroughly licked. When he looked to his left, he saw Bella.

Not even his own dog woke him up. Searching for Tessa, he finally spotted her on the floor, snoring happily on her back, one leg twitching slightly. Of course, she would still be asleep.

“It’s 8pm,” Em informed him, walking over with two steaming cups. “We’re Monday, which means Biology at 9.”

The sheer smell of her luxurious coffee instilled life in Peter’s sore limbs and gave him enough strength to sit up correctly and make room for her. When he came to, he realized there was food displayed on the coffee table too. Breakfast for two.

When she handing him his cup of coffee, Peter accepted it as though it was the Holy Graal and quietly took a sip before summoning his brain cells to answer her.

“Do you have to go to class?” he whined, grabbing a piece of toast and biting in it. _Still warm_.

“No Peter, actually _we_ have to go to class,” Em laughed at the face he made just then, upon hearing her statement. He looked like a child who had been caught sneaking out at night – guilty as all hell.

“I know I already missed a lot but I can’t go looking like…” He gestured at his face. The swell had gone down significantly but the black eye couldn’t be more obvious, that he was sure of even without having seen his face yet.

“Nothing a little make up can’t fix,” she assured him with a confident smirk. “Eat up, you’ll need it.”

“Fine,” Peter conceded – maybe too fast but he couldn’t care less – with a reluctant pout. “But I’m going to complain the whole time.”

“Because of the make up or class?”

“Because you’re making me wear make up _to_ class.”

He sounded absolutely scandalized and Emmeline found great amusement in this if her giggles were anything to go by. He loved that sound. The tension had significantly eased since last night and they were back to sharing light banter and easy flowing conversation.

Emmeline began to tell him what he missed, both at university and otherwise. She told him about their test in advanced physics, but also about her odd and newfound friendship with the Scarlet Witch. Peter drank her words like a thirsty man in the middle of the desert, which she didn’t fail to point out, if only to make him blush like he always did when he was embarrassed.

She just loved seeing him get flustered over something so silly. And the shade of pink of his cheeks only deepened when Em told him to sit down on a stool so she could get to work on his black eye.

He would go to class with the extra pair of jeans he always left at her place, but he insisted on wearing his hoodie so he could hide under the hood if he wanted.

“You’re being dramatic. This is college, no one cares. Your skin could be blue and people would think ‘it be like that sometime’ and go about their day,” Emmeline argued when Peter attempted to talk her into skipping class one last time.

With a few more groaned and weak protests, Peter sat down and closed his eyes. Emmeline made quick work of it, mostly concentrating her efforts on the black eye, making it look like Peter had massive eyebags. Worst case scenario: people would think he hasn’t slept in two weeks.

“It’s not perfect but it’s good enough. Just keep your head down and no one will notice a thing,” she told him, confident about this.

“I don’t know,“ Peter groaned, examining his reflection in the mirror. "It still seems obvious to me.”

“It’s because you know what’s under there. I swear if someone comes too close to you, I will jump on the table and start tap dancing to distract them.“

“You don’t know how to tap dance,” Peter scoffed with a roll if the eye. Then he remembered who he was talking to and the confidence in his voice wavered. “Do you?”

“No, I don’t. I can try to do the robot? Show ‘em some moves,” she then laughed, angling her elbow and making it move parallelly to her body.

“I would rather you tap dance if I have a say in this.“

Emmeline chuckled and gave a light tap to his shoulder.

"Get dressed now, you’re gonna make us late.”

Bella and the now – although barely – awake Tessa were extremely confused by Emmeline and Peter’s frantic comings and goings out of the bathroom and around the kitchen to get ready in time for their morning class, thinking it might be time for their walk.

“No, it’s not walk time,” Em told Bella as she walked past her, jacket only partly on.

Peter was in a state of utter dishevelment but he had gotten dressed on time, he knew Emmeline hated tardiness.

“Ready?”

“Are the dog’s bowls filled?” Peter asked.

“Aye captain,” Em answered with a military salute and peter shook his head, grabbing his hoodie and putting it over his head. “After you…” She opened the door and gestured him to go out while keeping Bella and Tessa from following suit.

“The things I do for you,” Peter huffed once Emmeline had locked the door and joined him on the sidewalk.

“That _you_ do for _me_? Bitch, I’m taking you to class against your own will for _your_ sake, not mine,” she replied.

Peter hissed and sucked in some air, holding his hand over his heart in pretend-hurt over being called a bitch. Emmeline gave him a sideways look that meant she wasn’t sorry.

“In that case, thank you for your consideration for my academic career,” Peter said, changing strategies since guilt-tripping this girl into anything was a pointless task. He hadn’t managed to do it as Spider-Man, so why would he as Peter Parker?

“You’re so very welcome,” she said with a self-satisfied smile. “Now let’s hurry!”

Peter naturally held his arm out for her to hold onto his elbow the way she always does, but this time she didn’t wrap her hand around arm. To his utmost surprise, she slowly let it slide down his forearm until her hand was also in his hoodie’s front pocket, and laced their fingers together.

“You know, I was gonna ask you out after you came back, but since you seem reluctant to show your face to the world until healed, maybe we could just stay in? Have a do-over dinner?”

This was just about the last thing Peter had expected to hear come out of her mouth when she decided to drag him to Bio this morning, and he was tempted to ask her to repeat, to make sure he hadn’t heart wrong.

“It’s a date!” he finally said, remembering the risky text he had sent her what feels like eons ago.

He had meant it to be teasing and playful, but the way Em’s shoulders relaxed and she leaned slightly against him made him realize than she, too, was anxious about the way their relationship would evolve.

“Yes, it’s a date.” She nodded and bit down on her lip to suppress the smile that threatened to split her face.

The whole way to their class, Peter was grinning like a love-struck fool.


End file.
